


so I'm guessing nick does not go back to teaching french history

by blumenkohl



Category: Archive 81 (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, but that's really just because nothing happens for 20k words, dont take it too seriously, heavy on the headcanon, i would say, im just putting it out there guys, statnick saturday
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 34,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28026012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blumenkohl/pseuds/blumenkohl
Summary: this is probably the most self-indulgent thing i've ever written, but the love juice had to go somewhere - so here it is
Relationships: Static Man/Nicholas Waters
Comments: 12
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

He had expected the place to smell moldy and damp, but all he got was dust. The air was so dry and thick that it made him choke, then his body remembered gravity and he collapsed into a heap on the ground.   
The candles for the ritual and the portable flood lamps they’d brought clashed and created oddly angled shadows, making him feel like the high walls were leaning in on all sides.  
It hadn’t looked like this before, he had seen without eyes, the world had been lit in the same grayish, listless dusk no matter where he was or what time of day.  
And then all he saw was Nicholas, and it was a revelation. He recognised him immediately, but he’d never looked so vibrant and bright and altogether alive.  
Nicholas had grabbed his arms when he fell and had probably been trying to get him to focus ever since, but there was no concern on his face. He was glowing. Arthur was too overwhelmed to actually understand the expression he showed, but his voice registered more clearly now. „Nice to meet you.“  
They stared at each other for what felt like entirely too long, but of course he hadn’t run on local time in years. Nicholas' head turned abruptly.  
Just when he was about to ask, Arthur heard it too. Heavy steps coming their way, unhurried but unmistakable.   
They’d known there was a chance of someone noticing their break in, but the Loew’s Theater on 46th Street was the only building Nicholas had been able to find that fit every highly specific point on his list. It had been empty for four decades and they had held some hope that that meant no one would notice – or care about a nightly intrusion.   
Nicholas turned back to him and whatever he’d seen in his face earlier, was replaced by a manic glean he knew only too well from dozens of far more serious close encounters. “Can you run?”  
The thought of talking seemed awfully complicated, so Arthur shook his aching head instead, slowly. “Me either. So better get going.”  
Originally, the plan had been to perform the ritual in one of the screening rooms of the theater, but standing in the middle of that stage, under the accusatory stare of several hundred frayed and empty seats, the iron wrought balconies looming over their heads with nothing specific hiding in their shadows, just out of sight, even Nicholas with his taste for the theatrical agreed that there was no point in making the whole affair creepier than necessary.   
Instead they’d found sufficient room in an empty hallway in the back of the building. And as an added bonus, there was a fire escape just down the corridor that would quite possibly save their hides now. They extinguished the candles, but left everything else as it was, viscera, unused veil of a virgin who died the night before her wedding, bucket of pebbles collected at the closest beach, in the presence of a cleric no older than forty-two, flood lights.  
They snuck out onto the fire escape the moment the large doors opened onto their corridor, and heard someone let out a little surprised scream. In all fairness, they had made sort of a mess, it was easy to forget how these things looked to the outside world.

Somehow – and in hindsight Arthur wouldn’t have been able to say how – they made it down the fire escape without either of them taking too much of a tumble, stopped the first cab that passed them, by nearly jumping in front of it, and then it was over and they were in the backseat of the car, laughing like maniacs. The driver had to ask for the address several times and when Nicholas told him, he looked surprised to see they weren’t alone. Then that look turned to fear as he turned back to Arthur. The colour drained from his cheeks until he looked as pale as in his memory. “You’re bleeding. This isn’t supposed to- I know I didn’t make a mistake”   
He grabbed his hands and when he pulled back the sleeves and exposed the gashing wounds there, all adrenaline seemed to leave Arthur's body at once and he slumped against the door. “Hey, don’t even think about bleeding on my seats”, the driver barked from the front, and Nicholas just replied with an irritated, but not impolite gesture. It took a lot out of Arthur to pull his arm away. “That’s not from the ritual, that’s from before.” He wanted to elaborate, but finding the words was hard. All of a sudden he felt very tired, and he’d forgotten what that was like.  
“From before Payphone?” Something was clearly rattling behind Nicholas’ eyes, the frown made his eyebrows look almost completely straight, but he didn’t try to grab Arthur again.   
A question hung in the air between them for the hundredth time and just like in the past, they let it pass without touching it.


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of the night went by in a haze, and the next time Arthur was fully aware of his surroundings he lay in a tangle of sheets in a strange bed, staring at the ceiling in the dim light that came in through the cracks in the blinds, convinced that he had been awake for quite a while before this. It felt like his senses had finally been reset. The last years, without his body, he had been able to interact with this plane sometimes, but it had never felt real. He’d touched things without feeling them, seen the world like a stale photograph and heard everything around him in a monotonous, distorted fashion. Coming back had been a jumble of impressions he no longer knew how to place and now, finally, it was as though the world around him had come to a rest. He sat up.   
It was the first time he’d actually been in Nicholas bedroom, and there was absolutely nothing he had missed. The place was minimalist at best, everything hidden away behind blank closet doors. He avoided the mirror, not ready for that particular adventure.   
Even without it, he knew that he was wearing pajamas Nick had gotten just for him, just for this. When he’d asked for his size, Arthur had assumed he was joking. That was kind of on him. His arms underneath the sleeves were tightly bandaged and as opposed to the previous day they now hurt and after not feeling anything for so long… that was still awful. Wasn’t any physical sensation supposed to be a relief after years of deprivation? He suddenly remembered Nicholas patching him up, holding his arm tightly without looking directly at him, as though he was just as incapable of finding the words as Arthur. Or maybe, as though he was worried they might show in his face.  
The manic energy he’d had at the theater had dissipated fast and left him quiet and sullen, but that had felt like a plus just then. Now it made him wonder.

He found Nicholas in the kitchen, sitting at the table with some newspaper clippings. When he looked up, it took a few seconds, before something in his face visibly clicked into place. Like he hadn’t actually expected him to emerge from the bedroom. “Good morning.” His tone was so matter of factly that Arthur found himself replying without considering it. “Hi.”  
He sat down just when Nicholas got up on the other side of the table, and they were holding eye contact the entire time. When Nicholas turned to flip on the stove, it seemed like a physical effort. “You’ve been asleep for a long time. I guess that could be expected. How do you feel?”  
It was disconcerting, hearing him talk like nothing happened, when he was clearly just as freaked out. He hadn’t seen him nervous in years.   
The question made him turn his attention inwards and what he found was a sort of muddy unrest, emotionally, and physically, pain in most parts of his body. “Pretty normal. Yo, did you sleep at all?” His voice was brittle and broke at least twice. Maybe that was why it sounded so unfamiliar. “Of course I did. I’m not the one who looks like he has been on a five day bender.”  
“Geez, thanks.” Or maybe it was a compliment. It had been a lot more than five days, after all. “Where… did you sleep on the couch?”  
A few eggs hit the pan and the smell made Arthur realise exactly how long he hadn’t eaten anything. It was nauseating, but it seemed to kickstart his body at least.  
“Naturally. You made me sleep in the car when you didn’t even have a body. It seemed appropriate.”  
“Because I was mostly teeth and shredding you in my sleep", or what passed for it then, “would have been kind of a bummer.”   
“Right. That…” He did look at him now, his brows pulled low, as though he was surprised by his own blindspot. It took a while before he slowly turned back to the pan. “That makes sense. Do you…. You’re going by Arthur now?”  
“Guess so.” Talking about the last few years had already gotten harder, and not because the memory was horrible. It already seemed preposterous. If Nicholas hadn’t been standing right there, as solid as anything, he’d checked himself into a hospital right there and then. But it was real. All of it. It did happen, and now it was over. The bruises he felt when he changed his position in the chair, were half a decade old. “Are you staring at me?”  
“I think I am.”   
Arthur frowned and finally sat up properly, gravity fought him on every pathetic millimeter. “Why.”  
Nicholas put a plate down in front of him with a decisive thud. “Because now I can, without my head exploding. Eat your eggs.” He did. They tasted like nothing. Either Nicholas was as bland a cook as he’d always suspected, or some of his senses were still calibrating. “Milk?” “Say what?”   
Nicholas was pouring a cup of coffee, the smell was way too intense. Also, he hadn’t noticed him move at all, like his brain was somehow lagging.   
“Do you take milk in your coffee?” “Not really a coffee person, dude. No offense.” Nicholas shrugged and picked up the coffee to add milk and sugar. “I will make some tea then. Have you figured out what you are going to say to your family?”  
The thought hit like a ton of bricks. Arthur froze, some eggs fell off his fork and he sat very still for a moment. What was he going to say to his family? After all these years… they had to assume he was dead. How did he not think of that until now? Maybe he had never really thought past this, he’d never really expected he would go back to being a person.   
“I guess that’s a no.” Nicholas had sat across from him and when he handed him his tea, Arthur took it mechanically. The heat brought him back to the present.   
“Is that even what you want? To tell them, I mean?”  
“’course, dude. They’re my family, I love them. I just…” He looked up. Nicholas was pointedly clearing away the newspaper clippings from earlier. “I’m sorry, dude. I wasn’t trying to be a dick about it.”   
“You have nothing to apologise for. I know my family is not exactly… I am glad to hear you get along with them. Do you have any siblings?”  
“Two. Older brother. Baby sister.” And their memory felt barely real to him. Like something he’d seen in a movie. He would probably have to unpack that at some point. For now it was easy enough to ignore. “Hey… Nick, do you think I could crash here for a few days?” The look Nicholas gave him was not what he had expected, but it disappeared too fast for him to place it. “It’s not a problem. I don’t mind having you around.” There was a pause, like he was going to say more. He didn’t.

They spent the day in a sort of restless stasis. Arthur still felt dazed, he walked around the apartment, stared out of the window. Mostly, he touched things. He had been able to influence his environment in his previous form, even in some more delicate ways, but it had never actually felt like touching anything. In many ways, that was probably what he had missed the most.  
He was well aware of how he had to look, standing in the middle of the living room, arms wrapped around himself – still in the pajamas he had laughed off only a week ago – but it didn’t matter. Nicholas pointedly pretended not to notice, at least. He went about his day, watering his plants, flicking through some books, but he always somehow managed to be around, feigning some minor task. Of course, throughout the last few years, Nicholas had always been right there, he had always been the one anchoring him to this reality. The thought of privacy didn’t seem as alluring as he would have expected, after all that.  
“Nick.” Nicholas looked up immediately, he didn’t even bother to act like he had been stirred from the book was browsing. There was a pause, they stared at each other across the room, Nicholas in his chair next to the television, Arthur uncomfortably perched on the armrest of the couch opposite of it. His voice hadn’t sounded familiar at all, and it startled him from saying more, the ticking of the old fashioned clock on Nicholas’ shelf got louder with every beat.  
“Why… are we in your apartment. I thought you moved. To…”  
There was another pause, and it made him regret the question. It was probably a touchy subject. He’d just needed to say something, his head felt so blank and the distance between them so vast. What was he supposed to be doing? What was he supposed to feel?  
Nicholas made a little gesture that could have meant anything. “It felt right. I suppose I thought, if I opened my eyes for the first time in… some years, I would want it to be somewhere less tied to what happened.”  
Of course. He didn’t even know how long it had been for him. It had never felt like the right moment to talk about what happened, leading up to his encounter with payphone. Nicholas had never asked.  
“Got it. So are you working on something lately? Don’t tell me if it’s lame.”  
A smile flickered over Nicholas’ face. “Well. I have been working on you. And I suppose for once, I may need a break after that. What we did was quite something, wasn’t it?”  
His hands that were still clasping the book lowered as he leaned in. Now that he was looking at him, he wasn’t breaking eye contact anymore and so finally Arthur could see something in his face, in the curve of his lips that was just the least bit cocky. It looked like pride.  
And even though he should have rejected that, even though being eyed like another finished project, another impossibility the Great Nicholas Waters achieved should have hit a nerve, he found himself smiling back. Professional interest or not. He had never seen Nicholas share that look with anyone else.

The silence stretched for a long time, until Nicholas stirred in his seat, almost like he was waking up from a nap. “So. How are you feeling?”  
He had no idea. Arthurs head was still completely empty. Except for the hammering headache of course. “Like I’m having the worst hangover, dude.”  
Nicholas’ smile wore thin, like his mind was still somewhere else. “I should probably get you some soup.” He eyed the door towards the kitchen and frowned. “… I will order you some soup. Tea, maybe?” When he got up, Arthur slid into the couch seat properly and curled up in its corner. He wished he didn’t have to answer any more questions, when he had no idea what he needed. “I’d be down for that”, he whispered, mostly to give Nicholas something to do.  
And it did the trick. For a few minutes his Sorcerer seemed somehow more like himself, flitting in and out of the room, boiling water, closing the blinds, flipping off the ceiling lights and replacing them with that of his reading lamp. When he sat down next to Arthur and handed him the tea, some tension seemed to have gone from him.  
Seeing how badly he wanted to care for him gave Arthur the funniest, most out of place emotion. Guilt, maybe. He had no idea where anything in his head belonged anymore.  
Nicholas offered a blanket and he let him put it on him, looking around the dim room so he didn’t have to face him just yet. “Nice. Romantic.” He finally commented with something that almost felt like snark, and actually pulled the blanket around himself tighter, nestling into his corner of the couch. This was okay. As okay as he had been since he came back.  
“I didn’t think you were such a cheap date.”  
“Really? And what about me is it that screamed high maintenance to you?”  
There. Flustered. Nicholas opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again and huffed a dry little laugh that had no humor in it at all. “I am sorry.”  
“It’s cool.” Well, fuck. Seeing Nicholas stare at his hands uncomfortably made Arthur wonder, for the first time, if he actually buried himself in work so he didn’t have to interact with anything or anyone outside of it. “How are you even more awkward with me now, than when I was a non-euclidean hitman?”  
The look Nicholas gave him was so full of genuine anguish that it was all he could do not to laugh out loud. “You may have noticed that I have been spending a lot more of my time around interdimensional horrors than flesh-and-blood men. I’m not good at people.”  
“Yeah, dude. No shit.”  
There was some more silence, maybe he was intentionally letting Nicholas stew in his discomfort for a bit, but finally he couldn’t stand his fidgeting anymore. “You think we should move to your d- uh… the- your other place? I know you said you’re taking a sabbatical or whatever, but I also know that’s bullshit.”  
Well, at least now he looked surprised rather than miserable. Small mercies. “Do you think you’d be comfortable there?”  
“You think you’d be comfortable having me there?”  
“Yes. Yes, of course. You have been there before.”  
“You know what I mean.” Nicholas didn’t look like he did, but he didn’t ask. Something about the angle in which the sparse light hit his eyes, made them look brighter than they had any right to be. It made one realization sink in. Nicholas wanted to go back to that place that was barely home, more than Arthur could remember ever wanting anything. Why did he bring him here in the first place?  
“Of course. We can go tomorrow.”  
“Okay.” Arthur shifted under his blanket and fidgeted with his tea for a moment. It was almost too hot, but he wanted something to hold on to. “And tonight-”  
Nicholas didn’t need him to finish. “Don’t worry about that.”  
“No, it’s fine, dude. I-” He should have thought about how to say that without making it weird, before bringing it up. Now it was too late and Nicholas was looking at him like that again.  
“You’d…. like me to?”  
He had a feeling that this time it was him who looked tortured, but Nick didn’t seem about to start laughing. So he nodded.  
And something changed.  
Something changed and he had no idea what he was seeing, the transition was so fundamental that all he could keep thinking was that it looked like all the Nicholas had drained from Nicholas. He still looked concerned and tense and uncomfortable, but he also looked like a different man. Certainly not the one who terrorized the Black Top and killed gods to find him a body that could sit on this couch just now. Arthur wished he had put down his tea.  
Then Nicholas was back, he just snapped back into place and left Arthur with a feeling like he’d caught something very fragile, priceless mid-flight, moments before it shattered on the ground. He felt dizzy.  
“Understood”, Nicholas said, in his soft Nicholas voice, tilting his head with his inquisitive Nicholas expression. “Would you also like a hug, Arthur?”  
For a second Arthur stared at him, he’d never known Nick to tease him about something like that, then he realized that he wasn’t. It only made the situation feel more surreal. “Yeah, actually. I think.”  
And so they hugged. It wasn’t a surprise that he felt every bone in Nicholas’ body, but that was about as much as he could have predicted. He’d seen Nick hold people before, it had looked stiff and uncomfortable, like getting stuck while climbing through a wire fence, he remembered thinking, but it was nothing like that. Nicholas nestled him against his chest, one hand in his hair, the other wrapped around his waist under the blanket and that meant he had to awkwardly steady himself against his uninjured leg. But somehow it worked. The burrowing, restless fear that had been pumping through his body like blood, no- like electricity, ever since he’d come back, finally came to a still, and wrapped up in that warmth and the smell of herbs and coffee and old-people cologne, he was ready to cry.  
He didn’t. But it felt good to know he still could.

They had fallen asleep more tightly entangled than he would ever admit, but had drifted apart during the night. Only a few hours could have passed, when Arthur sat up in Nicholas’ bed again. But this time was different, he felt calm. It was like the punchline to a crude joke, that he would feel safe only with Nicholas right there. He was still close, motionless, and could not have looked less intimidating. His cheek was pressed into the pillow, most of his face was hidden by a flurry of dark hair. His hand had grasped the sheets and Arthur couldn’t help but notice how fragile and delicate it looked, it reminded him of a small bird, constructed of hollow bones and if he held it right now, he would have to be very gentle not to crush or startle it. “You are up early.”  
Arthur flinched, feeling caught. “How- How do you know?”  
Nicholas hadn’t moved at all, but he was looking up at him through his lashes now. “You have been humming the Star Wars opening theme for the last five minutes.”  
“Oh. Huh.” Apparently he did pick up some bad habits during those compounded years alone in limbo. Although he hadn’t always been alone there. The thought seemed to move something around in his chest, like he swallowed a heavy weight, but he didn’t know how to touch the feeling and so he just let it pass.  
“I understand. It’s catchy.” There was a pause, and when Arthur looked at him again their eyes locked immediately, and Nick's stare was so intense that he could feel his face heat up despite himself. Not this again. “What now.”  
“Nothing.” They both stared for another moment, then Nicholas sat up and pushed back his hair. His eyes flickered back to him surreptitiously, but this time Arthur caught him. “Dude. What?”  
“You look nice.” For once, Nicholas' matter-of-fact tone did not help at all.   
“Dude.”  
This time, Nicholas didn’t get flustered. He smirked as he heaved himself out of bed, struggling with his balance as he often did. Still, he didn’t turn to look at him again. “I wasn’t going to say anything. And it’s not a bad thing, Arthur.”  
“No.” Arthur’s eyes followed him as he left. The weight in his chest was getting heavier. “Guess not.”

Arthur took the first proper shower since he had gotten his body back, and finally changed into some proper clothes. He wasn’t sure where Nicholas had gotten them from, but they were so boring that looking at them made his brain hurt. And yet he looked into the mirror for the first time, for a long time. He had been avoiding it, but caught a glimpse while he was drying his hair and then just froze, trying to recognize the person he saw, trying to reconcile it with the part of him that felt like it had lived through a dozen lifetimes.  
All he could see were huge eyes, big and strange and frightened and nothing like what they were supposed to be. It was the body he had started with, he knew it, but it was also a face he hadn’t seen in six years. And those eyes were the only part of his image that knew.  
Even standing in the kitchen door, watching Nicholas make coffee, he couldn’t shake the way they made him feel. And so he walked over and hugged him. Ignoring how needy that made him seem and Nicholas’ startled little sound and the coffee can Nicholas had been filling in the sink that began to overflow immediately. And Nicholas held him without saying anything.  
He just held him in place until it didn’t matter who was in the mirror.  
If he could be held like this, even for a minute, if he could feel someone's breath against his skin and someone's weight against him, that was as real as he needed to be. And more: If someone was willing to put their life on hold and let him cling to them, then that meant that there was value to however much of him that survived limbo. That there was something to salvage from the dregs his Sorcerer had brought home from the other place.  
Not for the first time, he wondered why Nicholas had gone to those lengths to save him, and not for the first time, he refused to look for an answer. That was a can of worms for another day.  
They pulled apart eventually and this time both of them were left a little flustered. Nicholas was better at playing it off, but not by a lot. He talked about what to pack, about lunch, about traffic, and somehow segued from talking about the houses water lines into a monologue about pre- medieval aqueducts that gave Arthur plenty of time to put himself back together. And through all that unusual chatter, he never threw him more than a passing glance. If Arthur hadn’t been sure that it was all a charade to make him feel better, that would have given it away. There was a certain comfort in being the center of Nicholas’ attention. It was hard to imagine anything happening to him, while Nick was staring into his soul like a collector pinning a bug to a board. His possessiveness had felt confining when he was an immortal nether being, but now it was reassuring. Nobody fucked with what belonged to Nicholas Waters and he wanted, more than anything, not to be fucked with.


	3. Chapter 3

“Are you, like, okay?”  
“Naturally. Why?”  
They had picked up some Popeye’s on the way back to the house and Arthur had semi-ironically insisted on arranging it on actual plates when he saw the fancy antique kitchenware. At the moment, Nicholas was adding a garnish of pills from a nearly empty bottle. “Right. It’s a supplement, Arthur.” He shook the bottle. “I have been losing a lot of blood over these last few months and that takes a toll. That is, of course, the point.”  
The cooing sound that escaped Arthur was not one he had ever heard from himself and he laughed it off immediately, but Nicholas remained unfazed. “Yo, that was your blood? For the ritual?”  
“Yes. Are you going to eat or are you getting squeamish after all?”  
“No, no. It’s cool, I just didn’t think- I didn’t think it was all from one person. That was a lot of blood, Nick.”  
“Yes, it was. Hence the pills. There is only so much blood you can acquire without drawing unwanted attention, and, well…” Nicholas stopped to eat some chicken and then swallowed his pills with a swig of lemonade. “It’s a question of quality, too.”  
“Nick…”  
“Nicholas.”  
For once, Arthur didn’t even bother to roll his eyes. Nicholas only got abrasive when he was uncomfortable, he didn’t usually bother to correct him anymore. “Are you a virgin?”  
There was a pause, while Nicholas was apparently waiting - or hoping - to choke on his chicken. He didn’t. Eventually he sighed and resigned to the fact that that was a conversation they were having. “No. Rituals usually don’t require virgin blood, not really. It comes down to power. Power is achieved by sacrifice. And abstinence is a form of sacrifice. It’s not complicated.” Nicholas paused. “You know. I liked you better before I could actually see how smug you get.”  
Arthur shrugged and pointed a buffalo wing in his direction. “Nah dude, I’m not smug. It’s just nice to see you talk about work. It’s cute.” Well, that didn’t help. He hadn’t expected it to. “So, abstinence, huh. Like what?”  
This time, when Nicholas scoffed, his displeasure seemed to be directed at the topic, rather than him at least. “Like, pretty much anything. I have never had a drink. That helps.”  
“Never?”  
“Luckily. But there are other ways. Any sort of high energy transfer in a cleansed state accumulates power. But you know that.”  
“What.”  
“Like committing patricide at the culmination of an elaborate purification ritual. That would get you some… bang. It’s most of what got us this far.” It took a moment for that meaning to register, and especially to connect it to Nicholas’ neutral expression.  
“Oh.”  
“Yes. Now, while I have the benefit of being cute, can I ask you to get me a couple of things from the attic after lunch? Carrying things up and down the stairs has been a bit of a hassle.” 

The house was very old and very large. Larger, as a matter of fact, than it looked from the outside. So far, Arthur had only ever seen a couple of rooms in it and he had vastly underestimated how odd it was. The rooms Nicholas had summoned him in had been mostly cleared of clutter for that purpose, but the rest of the house was stuffed full of the strangest assortment of relics, from antique looking busts and paintings, over a collection of deeply unsettling dolls, some of which were missing heads and limbs, all the way to a cabinet that seemed to be filled with nothing but broken umbrellas. Not fancy ones, either, but the cheap dollar store kind that came in an assortment of bright colors.  
But however gloomy the place was, it was impeccably clean and it smelled like Nicholas. Logically, he knew that it was the other way around. There were heather, honeysuckle and rosemary from the tiny, precious garden square scattered all around the house for protection, and that smell had seeped into Nick's clothes. It was the smell of the work they were doing, there were probably a whole bunch of occultists that were drenched in it just the same. But that didn’t change the fact that every time he took a deep breath, he felt Nicholas’ body pressed close to him again, like he would never have to let him go, he heard his heartbeat change the exact moment he drifted off to sleep and although he had already decided that he would never let anyone find out how desperately he had clung to him during the night, remembering it made the fear easier to deal with.  
He didn’t know when it had started, if it was a result of what had happened to him, or if it was an anxiety that had carried over from his previous life, but ever since he collapsed in that chalk circle at the theater, he had been scared of nothing in particular. It was a sense of constant dread, impending doom, that told him that, while everything around him might have been real, it wasn’t permanent. Something would happen, and soon. He wasn’t a part of this anymore, he didn’t belong here anymore, and what Nicholas had done was just too unnatural. There were rules to every dimension, every plane, and while one could bend them, they always snapped back into place. Unless, of course, they were broken.  
Nicholas had done that once, one time, broken the rules, in a world so distant from this one that it was hard to remember. That was how they knew there were consequences. And that was how he knew he couldn’t be here now. And that was why, every time he stopped to think ahead, it felt like he was being ripped out of his body all over again. He couldn’t leave, he couldn’t go back to normal, when all that anchored him to this reality was Nick’s touch and his voice and his stare pinning him into place so surely, that even his soul wouldn’t dare leave his body.   
“I don’t mean to pry…”  
Arthur jumped when he heard Nicholas' voice right next to him and realized that he had stopped in the middle of the staircase just in time to keep himself from falling. It didn’t escape his notice that Nick hadn’t made any motions to catch him if he did. He also couldn’t help but note how close he’d come while he was in his head, their hands on the banister almost touched.  
“But if you climb stairs slower than I do, then I know everything is not alright.”  
Great. Exactly what he had wanted, a conversation about feelings with Nicholas Waters. He didn’t answer, and they continued upstairs in silence.  
“So, what exactly did you need from up there?” When he turned around, Nick was just looking at him, leaning on the wood carving that topped the upper end of the handrail. When he let go and came closer, Arthur’s first instinct was to move out of the way, but Nicholas took his hands and just held them. Casually. “You’re really not going to talk to me?”  
Wow. It wasn’t the first time he had seen Nicholas pout, but it was the first time he felt it with the full range of human emotion and because of how bizarre a look it was on him, it was also strangely alluring. It felt like a privilege that could be revoked at any given time.  
But it was also fake.  
“Are you really trying this on me right now?”  
Nicholas didn’t miss a beat. “Clearly. Is it working?”  
“Kind of.” Arthur squeezed his hands, his body betraying an emotion he didn’t know how to put into words, and then pulled out of his grasp. “But there’s nothing to talk about, dude. You worry way too much. So. Attic?” 

This time Nicholas let him go willingly and gestured down the hall. He looked like he was struggling without his cane, but something kept Arthur from offering his help. Half an hour later he was sweaty, full of dust and cobwebs and regretted ever leaving that little one bedroom apartment behind.  
What Nicholas had referred to as the attic, was more of a loft space that seemed to stretch across the entire length of the building. It looked like no one had set foot in it for a long time, but after some inspection it turned out to be more well organised than the downstairs area. The low cabinets and piled cardboard boxes were all labeled in the same narrow handwriting that was everywhere around this house, and that was so uncomfortably similar to Nicholas own. The actual dedications didn’t make much sense to him, all abbreviations and numbers. Most of the storage space was taken up by recordings, books or notepads, but there were other things too. He even found the heads that were missing from the dolls downstairs and made sure to keep his distance.  
A narrow staircase led upstairs, almost a ladder. That explained why Nicholas hadn’t gone himself. Somehow, he still had a highly specific list of things he needed – urgently, according to him – and he was standing at the foot of the steps, peering up towards him and making sure he got the correct boxes. Maybe it was just his imagination, but it seemed to him that Nick looked more entertained every time he saw him.   
Either way, he ran out of priceless artifacts, tomes and ingredients eventually. When Arthur put down the last box and turned around, Nicholas was so close behind him that it was all he could do not to jump again. “You are worried about your family, is that it?”  
“Dude, personal space.” Arthur backed away as far as he could and almost sat on the crate he just put there. When he knocked against it, he sent a plume of dust flying.  
Nicholas stepped back a little, probably more out of concern for his things than to stop creeping him out. Because he was being creepy, even for his standards.  
“That is what is on your mind. You are concerned about seeing them again. Why?”  
Ugh. This was not a side of Nicholas he had missed. “Calm down, Sherlock. I told you, it’s nothing.”  
“Arthur.” They looked at each other silently, until finally he stirred first and crossed his arms.  
“Why are you so invested in this, just let it go. None of your business.”  
Yeah. That didn’t seem to take. “Exactly. So it’s not about me, it has to be about your family.”  
“Nicholas, I swear to god-”  
“Well, if you’re bringing god into it.” This time, even Nicholas seemed to notice that he was letting the issue get away from him, he raised his hands defensively. “I just worry. Can you blame me? You have been my business for a long time.”  
As it turned out, he could. “Bullshit. This isn’t about my feelings, it’s about me keeping something from you. You need to know every detail about my life like, like some sort of prison warden! But that’s not how this works anymore. That’s not how people work. You can’t control everyone around you, all the time.”  
“But I can try.” Arthur stared at him, but Nicholas let his eyes trail off after a moment. He took a deep breath. “No, I am sorry. I get carried away, I shouldn’t have pushed. I really do worry about you. You are my best friend, I suppose.” Arthur watched Nicholas struggle on his feet and then slowly sit down on the stairs. The dust was just starting to settle.  
There was a strange void in his chest, how did he feel about this? He knew he couldn’t trust Nicholas’ apologies, he knew he was being handled. But if he was honest with himself, it didn’t matter. He also knew that he cared about him. If he didn’t know how to express that, what did that really change?  
Nicholas looked at him and he knew he had to say something. “Well, in your defense. You don’t get out a lot, of course I’m your best friend.” They both smiled thin, listless smiles, and he sat next to him, the staircase was so tight that it kind of squeezed them together, but he didn’t mind. “I guess I’ve never really thought about what it would be like when I’m back. What, do I go back to college? It sucks.” He felt Nicholas shift next to him, he probably needed to put his leg up. But apparently they were doing this now.  
“I always thought you would just stay with me”, Nicholas said after a long pause, still staring at his hands. That was new. “I could never imagine anything else. Letting you go is an odd thought. If I seem overbearing, that is why. But you are right. You can’t stay.”  
Huh. “Thanks?” He hadn’t been planning on it, of course, but that was because he’d just assumed that Nicholas was only waiting to have his place back to himself. He was such a private person, quiet, too. And he really didn’t need a roommate.  
But he wanted him to stay, it was obvious now. If he hadn’t meant it, he wouldn’t have looked so queasy. Reading Nicholas wasn’t actually that hard.  
“You know I didn’t mean it like that. Our lives have been revolving around each other for a really long time. I just think we need some space. I can not be the only one thinking that we have become dangerously codependent.”  
Yes. He had definitely been the only one thinking that. But maybe that was only because he had never had anyone to be dangerously dependent on? But what if he really was? What if he wasn’t here and something happened? What if some part of the ritual didn’t pan out? It was completely new territory after all.  
Alright. Now he heard it. Those were not normal nerves, life a few miles away from Nicholas should not sound that daunting. And he hadn’t even begun to think about what he would tell his family. Maybe he would have to figure it out on the go.  
“Yeah… I get it. Will you be alright?”  
From the corner of his eyes he saw Nicholas frown. Then he put his head on Arthur's shoulder.  
Arthur held very still.  
“I am always alright. You have nothing to worry about.”

And maybe that was true. Maybe he didn’t. But that didn’t change the fact that both him and Nicholas clearly worried. He cleared away the crates and cardboard boxes according to Nicholas’ wishes, but they hardly spoke, either out of embarrassment or because they were both stuck in their own thoughts. The future suddenly seemed very intimidating. For the rest of the day, they somehow managed to avoid each other.   
It didn’t feel good. Late that night, he found himself standing in the doorway to the library for the third time, where he could see Nicholas’ rummaging through some of the boxes, inspecting their contents. He didn’t look up at him once, but eventually he put down the notebook he had been leafing through and, before Arthur could quietly back out of the room, said: “Have you always slept this little? Or should that be concerning?”  
Yikes. It was comforting, being around Nicholas, the rest of the house felt hauntingly empty. But striking up another conversation was the last thing he wanted.  
“I don’t know, man. Never spent this many consecutive nights staying in. It’s cool though. I feel peachy.” Finally, Nicholas turned around to him, and his face didn’t give anything away. It didn't have to, he obviously struggled to keep from mentioning how it had only been two nights.  
“What about your arms? I think it might be a good idea to see a doctor, would you be amenable to that?”  
“I don’t think I’ll do that, I still have three days on them.”  
“So it’s a ritualistic injury. Of course.” Nicholas didn’t sound surprised, and he hated that. He hated being reminded of that whole story. For a moment Arthur considered walking out again and just going to bed, then he came closer instead and leaned his hip against the desk.   
They were silent, while Nicholas picked up going through the notes again.   
For once, watching him work wasn’t comforting. His face was tense and he was clearly doing his best not to look up. Great. Somehow that was even worse than when he was talking. Arthur tried to ignore it for a while, but finally he gave in, after Nick had stared at the same page for a few minutes.  
“Fine. What’s bugging you?”  
Nicholas put the notebook down with a relieved sigh and peered up at him through his lashes in a way that was uncomfortably reminiscent of the way he’d stolen little looks at Static Man in the past. As it turned out, it was difficult to be cross with someone who looked at him like a coy middle school girl looked at her crush. “I am alright.”  
Clearly, Nicholas knew that wouldn’t suffice, he seemed to be grasping for words. “It’s just that. You seem chagrined. And it makes me wonder if that has to do with our… I guess I just hope that, if there was something that I…” This time, when he trailed off, it didn’t look like he could find a way to end his sentence and he ended up just staring at Arthur, like he was hoping to transfer his meaning telepathically.  
Arthur raised a brow. “Are you asking me if I’m mad at you?”  
He regretted his condescending tone immediately, when Nicholas' face closed up like he was expecting an impact. “I just don’t like when you are upset with me."  
"I'm not, it's not a big deal. And it isn't actually about you."  
"No, I know. This would be a lot for anyone. I understand. And I don’t expect anything from you, you are not here to coddle me. I am just… trying to be honest.”  
“Then why am I here? Protection?”  
He hadn’t gambled for it, but the question got him a patented Nicholas Waters smile, tentative and coy as it was. “Hardly. You don’t need my protection.”  
Did he mean that? Why did he sound so damn sure, how could he know that? Didn’t he realize how haphazard what they did was? How could there be any guarantees?  
Arthurs silence stretched out too long, and the realisation began to dawn on Nicholas' face that this was a serious concern to him.   
“Arthur… if something was wrong, you would have noticed it by now. You know that. At least I thought you did.”  
“No, I know that’s how it usually works, but is this really a sure thing? Like, how sure are you that we’re fine? On a scale from one to ten, one being I’ll probably crumble to dust next week and ten being you’d switch bodies with me because I’m gonna outlive you and, well. Look at me.”  
There was that smile again, and this time it was brighter. If it didn’t put him at ease, it distracted him at least. No one had ever looked at him like Nicholas did. Sometimes meeting his eyes felt like there was no air in the room. It was those stupid, trusting cow eyes.  
“I would put it down as an eight. You have nothing to worry about.”  
“That’s still a ways away from a ten, buddy. Sounds like there are some things to worry about.”  
“No, it’s not that, the ritual was solid. I just don’t really see myself as a blond.”  
Arthur huffed a laugh and picked up one of the notebooks, despite Nicholas’ half-hearted protests. “I’ll put it back where I found it, relax.” Guy had a system for everything. He thumbed through the pages without really reading anything much. For a while they just sat there in silence and it was almost cozy, like all that was missing was the sound of rain against the window and some hot beverages. Nicholas was the first person to stir again.  
“I have had some ideas about the house. Safety and such. Would you be interested in maybe lending a hand with that?”  
“Sure thing. Aw man, are you buying a dog?”  
“Not likely.”  
“‘course you’re not a dog person, what was I thinking.” Still smirking, Arthur bent down to pick up a piece of paper that had fallen from the pages of the notebook he held. Then he looked up. “Hey it’s your mom.”  
He turned the photo so Nicholas could see, but not without looking distinctly worried about his reaction.   
Nicholas took it, gently, and his reply was only a little delayed, although his voice sounded very thin. “It is. I have…. never seen her this young. I-” He cleared his throat and handed the picture back very quickly. “Put it where you found it, please. I am sure it’s in there for a reason.”  
“Okay, dude.” Arthur did so very gently, but still frowned at Nicholas, who did his best to seem collected. But as always, that only made him more obvious. “Do you, like. Need a moment?”

“I’m fine.”  
“Are you… are you sure? Because I-”  
“I am sure.” Nicholas took a wet breath, another, then he sounded almost like himself again. “You can hang out here for a little. … if you want.”  
“Okay. What else?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Oh, cut it out, man. We’re having a moment. What are you not saying?”  
Nicholas looked at him, his face as blank as Arthur had ever seen, and it made him hold his breath.  
“I would like you to sleep over again. If it’s not too much of a-”  
“Sure thing. You got it.”  
“... thank you, Arthur.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Are you inspecting my handiwork? I guess everyone's a critic.”  
Arthur winced and turned, looking caught. He had been staring into the mirror in the hallway. He’d gotten out of bed when Nicholas still seemed to be fast asleep, but apparently he had woken him up. Or maybe he had been standing there, transfixed for longer than he wanted to admit to himself.  
“Seriously, dude. How do you sneak around like that when your leg looks like-” Something about Nicholas’ face stopped him from finishing that sentence. “Sorry, that was shitty. You just startled me, man.”  
“It’s no problem. Although I can not help but notice that you already looked like you had seen a ghost when I came in just now.”  
True, for the record. But he wouldn’t have known how to talk about what was going on if he wanted to. This was why he had tried to avoid conversation. Nicholas noticed all manner of things about him, but never seemed to understand any of it. Maybe they were just too different.  
But today, despite the brusque reception, Nick seemed different, like most of his manic energy had just dissipated, leaving him a gruff looking but soft-spoken man, rather than an interdimensional Sorcerer. Centered, that was the word. He seemed centered for maybe the first time since they’d known each other.  
"Arthur." Nicholas took his hand again, but this time his face was serious. It was… genuine? Yes, of course. They had spent too much time together for him to deceive him like that. Nick looked more vulnerable than this when he was playing pretend.  
What threw him off was that he had never known Nicholas to be so hands-on. It gave him the strangest mix of feelings to consider that maybe, that was because he had never been able to touch him before.  
Arthur didn't reply. Instead he looked at the fingers in his. They felt exactly as fragile as they had looked before, and the thought made him cup them between his hands, feeling oddly choked up, like he had been given something precious. His feelings really were all over the place, but what was he supposed to do about it?  
"I just don't know how to feel like myself anymore. It's like I don't even know the guy."  
“Well.” Nicholas smiled, it was a fickle, cautious little expression. “It is your body. But you are not the man you were when you last had it,certainly. That doesn’t mean you are not still yourself.”  
With a groan, Arthur leaned his forehead against Nicholas’ chest. He had halfway expected him to pull away, but instead there was a featherweight touch on his arms. “That makes no sense. I mean, my main worry was that, as soon as I got my body back, I’d go back to being the jerk I was before. But now I don’t even know how to do that, I don’t even feel like I remember him right. He’s like that one guy from a shitty 90s sitcom that you watched as a kid. Not like a real person. Definitely not like me.”  
“I can not testify for the jerk you used to be. But I know Static Man is still in there.” Nicholas’ fingers touched his hair tentatively, but disappeared soon, even though he tried to hold very still. ”You still don't know how to pronounce the word deficit, long silences still make you squirm, you can tell when my thoughts spiral and immediately try to distract me with horrible jokes that even you would not make under any other conditions.. You sound different, but your voice still rises in the same way when you are about to say something like it's a joke, that is actually meaningful to you. Your circumstances have changed, Arthur. Not you. And you are not a bad person. You..." Arthur raised his head, and Nicholas’ trailed off. Some unrest had returned to his eyes. It was hard to miss from this close up.   
“There’s probably something I should tell you. I thought I could spare you but at this point-”   
“What is it.”  
Nicholas' words had come fast and he backed away a little, not quite taking a step. Arthur smirked. It was mean, maybe, but sometimes it was good to make him uncomfortable for a change. “I don’t mispronounce ‘deficit’, you do.”  
That wasn’t what Nick had expected. In all fairness, it probably wasn’t what he had originally intended to say. “I don’t think that’s right…”  
“Nah dude, come on. I majored in economics, I damn well know a thing or two about fucking deficits. I wasn’t gonna say anything.”  
Nicholas’ face was so blank that he couldn’t help but laugh.  
“I... did not know that about you.”  
“Yeah, I know. Didn’t come up. What did you expect?”  
“I am not rightly sure.” The frown was back, and in a way that was a relief. Nicholas had returned to being a closed system, no more touching and hopefully that meant, no more one sided heart-to-hearts  
“Mh.” Arthur turned to leave, he was smirking, but his eyes pointedly avoided the mirror. However, Nicholas wasn’t done with him.   
“Wait. I think you need to leave the house.”  
Maybe Arthurs smile became a little shakier after that. “I mean… I will. Do you have any   
plans?” He tried to push his hands into his pockets, but he was still wearing his damn pajamas, and ended up awkwardly crossing his arms.   
“Come grocery shopping with me. Today.”  
“Okay.” His voice carried more unease than a shopping trip warranted and he knew it, but he couldn’t help it. Even in the last years when he had come to exist more continuously, he obviously hadn’t been able to show himself in public. It was an uncomfortable thought, as vulnerable as he felt now.  
Shopping was exactly as overwhelming and unsettling as he had expected, people could actually collide with him on the streets now, and things were moving much faster than he remembered from his time as Static Man - certainly faster than back at the house.  
And yet - although he would make sure not to let him know - Nicholas had been right. It was exactly what he needed to convince himself that he was taking up space, that he could move through a crowd without causing a commotion. He was like these people, even if he didn’t quite feel like it yet.   
But as much as they worked on getting him back into a bearable mindspace, they hadn’t talked about exactly when he was expected to leave, and a few days later he was trying hard to come up with any sort of plan, sitting at the kitchen table, distantly staring into a bowl of cheap instant noodles he had brewed up.


	5. Chapter 5

“I didn’t know this house could get any more depressing.”  
Arthur flinched, spilled hot broth over his hands and cursed. “Shit dude, why is everyone always sneaking around like that?”  
He looked up and his eyes met Morgans. “He really does creep around, I’ve noticed that.” It was the strangest thing. Everything and everyone else looked inexplicably different than they did before the ritual. Brighter, more saturated, more real. It was hard to remember faces he had seen, like there had been a thick veil over everything. But she looked exactly as he had thought, deeply familiar. Maybe that should have been comforting, but it just felt like someone tried to pull his lungs out through his throat. It was fine, his feelings hadn’t once made sense since the ritual.  
She stood there watching him, her arms crossed, exactly like he tended to watch Nicholas do his chores. Nick never seemed to mind though. “I was wondering why I couldn’t get him on the phone. It’s been a long time, even for him. Guess that’s on you.”  
“It’s not like I took his phone. He just gets all loopy when he’s busy.” She looked curious, but he knew that tone on her. The cautious tension in her shoulders, like she was once again wondering if he had come to stir up trouble. It instantly transported him back to the Black Top and he didn’t like the feeling one bit.  
Morgan didn’t know who he was, of course not. He had to tell her. If he didn’t even know how to break the news to Morgan, who knew what had been going on, how could he ever hope to explain anything to his parents?  
“If I’d known he was seeing someone, I wouldn’t have let myself in. I mean. That’s just weird.”  
“How did you get in here, anyways? … and it’s not like that, do I look like Nicholas’ type?”  
“Used her keys, probably. I can’t say I am not curious, what do you think my type is?”  
Nick was just there suddenly and it didn’t startle either of them anymore. It shouldn’t have been possible to move so quietly with his cane and his limp, but that wasn’t the oddest thing about him.  
He didn’t look upset – or surprised to find another guest.  
He put an arm around Morgan when he appeared next to her, probably for support as much as anything, but it churned Arthurs stomach. Like he was the only one entitled to that touch. He had earned it, and now he was the one being thrown out of the house? He didn’t even have keys! His own feelings overwhelmed him, but not so much that he didn’t hear Nicholas introduce him.  
“Morgan, meet Static Man.”  
She looked almost blank for a moment, hiding away her surprise and letting the news sink in, stared at him, then at Nick. “You did it? Really? Christ. How are you feeling?”  
Arthur got ready to pull together some sort of answer – how was he? He still wasn’t really in touch with that – but Morgan wasn’t talking to him, she was looking at Nicholas. At least he appeared to be just as uncomfortable with the question. “I am not exactly sure. Drained, I think? Yes. I thought I would wrap it up two months sooner, and the sleepless nights, the- and if it hadn’t worked... It was frightening.”  
“I’m sure it was.” She hugged him, just like that, and although he didn’t hug back he let it happen without looking too uneasy. There was an intimacy in the way they treated each other, that made him want to throw up. It was the first time he really saw what he had missed out on. They had bonded while he had been stuck in limbo, and now here he was, with no plans, no meaningful connections, and couldn’t even look his own reflection in the eyes. And it had been a long time since Nicholas had admitted any fears to him. He knew it wasn’t fair, none of those thoughts were reasonable. But he felt detached from all of this, less a part of it than when he’d been nothing but Static and the feeling made him ache all over.  
“Go sit down. Static Man can help me make popcorn. You need a drink.”  
“You brought soda?”  
“I’m not gonna drink tea all night.”  
Nicholas clicked his tongue and left, his eyes lingered on Arthur in a way that made him only feel more helpless. What did that mean? What did any of Nicholas’ crap ever mean?  
“I don’t actually need help making popcorn. I just hate the way he sort of hovers there.”  
He looked at Morgan. Right. “It’s Thursday. Movie-night”, he realized all of a sudden, of course. That was why she was there in the first place.  
“That’s right. Last week I showed up, no one was home, no calls, no messages. I thought he finally got himself in more trouble than he could handle. But I guess that really was to do with you. He didn’t tell me you guys were ready to give it another go, maybe he didn’t wanna jinx it.”  
While she was talking, Morgan was opening and closing cabinets, she clearly knew where everything was. “Still. A call would have been nice. Sometimes he just forgets other people exist, I suppose. How do you live with him?”  
“It’s been, like, a week. And he’s not so bad. Kind of a mother hen actually.”  
“Only with you.” Morgan turned on the heat and looked over at him while she waited. “He’s worried about you getting yourself in trouble all the time, I bet it’s worse now that you can actually get hurt. Other than that, he kind of tends to forget he’s not the only person in this dimension. But he means well.”  
“We’re friends. I think. It’s not weird.” Arthur peered into the hallway. It curved out of sight a few doors down where it opened into the living room that he was so very used to. He could almost see Nicholas getting settled in and fumbling with the remote control. “I stress about him too, actually. Sometimes he forgets he’s a person in this dimension. Dude needs a nanny.“  
Morgan snickered and turned around to shake the pot of popcorn a few times. It was comfortable, all of a sudden. She barely gave him a second glance, like she had never known him any other way. He stared at his noodles, but no. His stomach was still in knots. That wasn’t happening. He got up to toss out the ramen, when Morgan's phone chimed. She checked it. Then scoffed.  
“What?”  
“Nicholas asks if his nanny can bring glasses for the soda, he forgot. … I can’t believe he heard that.”  
“No, that’s normal.” Arthur shrugged and was already plucking glasses from the cabinet. “Man has ears like a bat. You get used to it.” And if nothing else, that was one thing that didn’t bother him. Because whatever he had said to Nick about privacy, he didn’t actually want to have secrets from him. Well, maybe one secret.

“What if we didn’t go back?” Arthur raised his head with a quizzical look. He had been all but asleep, when Nicholas turned down the volume on the television. It was stuffy warm under the blanket that he didn’t remember wrapping himself in. Nicholas looked at him expectantly and, when it became clear he wouldn’t get an answer, elaborated. “What if we don’t go back to our lives yet. We take a few months off, go on a road trip, a normal one. No family, no rituals.  
Arthur took a deep breath that was almost a yawn and sat up, resigned to the fact that nap time was over. Morgan was gone, and the fact that she had left without waking him, gave him a nasty sting for some reason “Where’s that coming from? You’re the one who insisted we press pause on our, what was it? Dangerously codependent partnership.” His body sunk back into the upholstery against his will. There was really no boring moment in this household. Not what he’d expected from living with Nicholas Waters. “Yes, well.”  
“Well?”   
“Well. I might have underestimated the part where I’m… dependent on that partnership.” “Dude. Seriously. Just say you don’t want me to move out.”  
Great, now Nicholas was getting awkward and shifty again. “I don’t want you to move out. … I don’t. But I still think you should, that hasn’t changed. No, you know what, you are right. When did you become the reasonable one?”   
Something bubbled up in Arthurs chest, and it wasn't new. It was made up of all the frustration with his own nerves, all the flailing, undirected fear, and all the insecurity that had been weighing him down, ever since he came back. Maybe it was because he was hardly awake, but suddenly the feeling was choking him and clawing on his insides, and Nick's good-natured joke was the last straw.   
“I’m fucking not, I was just repeating back what you said. Doesn’t mean I agree with it. ‘Dangerously codependent’, the hell does that even mean? Dangerous how? I don’t want to, whatever, expand my horizons, I’m pretty sure that’s how this whole shitshow started! I don’t want to explain to someone else how I lost half a decade in some knock-off limbo, I don’t even want to learn someone else’s coffee order or sleeping habits or which part of the bagel they prefer. I’m tired. I just want to be comfortable. Being with you is comfortable, I don’t see what’s wrong with that.”  
Nicholas just looked at him, his face infuriatingly neutral. For once, his poker face was so thick, that he couldn’t see as much as a glimpse of what was underneath. It was genuinely disturbing.   
“So”, he said in a tone that made Arthur pull the blanket tighter around him. “Is that a yes on the road trip?”  
Absolute jerk. “Fine… yes. I’m down for the road trip.” His outburst made him feel vulnerable and drained, but also calmer. As though holding all that in had been what made him feel so antsy all the time. When Nicholas moved to his side of the couch and kissed him, it felt like the most natural thing in the world, one breath following the next, a perfect line of chalk, a candle and a jar of glass marbles following some obscure cosmic law and making a miracle happen.  
But it wasn’t. And as soon as they split, that began to dawn on him. Oh no. He’d always known their relationship – their partnership was on the verge of something else, something more intimate, but he’d assumed it would be fine. He’d assumed, he realised now, that Nicholas would sort out his own feelings. That he… knew. Nicholas had always known how to protect himself, if nothing else, and so whatever they had, had felt too good to drive a wedge between them by bringing it up. Comfortable, exactly as he’d said. Even now, the thought of losing his privilege to this gentler side, his undivided attention was almost unbearable. But how long could he really string him along?  
They were still very close, he felt Nick's breath against his cheek, and the expression on his face was heart wrenching. This was what he had been afraid of, the dizzying feeling of Nicholas revealing what was under that well curated impassivity, like a landslide swallowing all the little walls they had barely upheld, the unspoken agreements that allowed them to continue to pretend. Like they hadn’t both known how Nicholas felt about him. He had never seen anyone look like that, definitely not at him. Nicholas had always been gentle with him, and this wasn’t that. There was an edge to it, a severity that made his hands shake. He did his best to take a calm breath.  
“Aw man. Nick, I-” The phone ringing felt like a divine intervention. Under Nicholas probing eyes, close enough to discern every single dark eyelash, there had been no way he’d figure out what to say.  
So instead, he watched him get up, walk across the room and pick up the landline – an ancient rotary phone that was connected to nothing and had proven impossible to throw out. He had to try again.   
“Nick, I’m straight”, he blurted out when his brain caught up with what was happening. Without another body next to his, he suddenly felt cold and wrapped himself tighter in his blanket. But Nick's demeanor had changed completely, he just gestured him to wait, clamped the phone between his ear and his shoulder and picked up a notebook and pen that were sitting on the phone’s side table. “Yes. I’d be happy to get this over with.”  
He listened, and Arthur couldn’t decide if he looked more or less like himself now. His eyes were cold and his expression didn’t change when he stopped writing and said: “I can do it, but my end of the bargain is complete when I hand you the ritual, and I don’t want to hear any complaints when you realize that you won’t go through with it, because you don’t want to pay the price. I am saying… be quiet. I am saying, it will cost you. Probably more than you are- Fine. Call again in six weeks.”  
Nicholas hung up the receiver with a strangely delicate motion, looked at his notes and sighed. That was as close as he would get to an eye-roll.  
“Who was that?”, Arthur asked at the same moment he said: “Annabelle is calling in her favor.”  
That distracted him, at least for a moment. He frowned, pulling the blanket tighter. “Already? Gotta be something pretty important.”   
If Nicholas had heard the underlying question, he didn’t see fit to answer it. “It looks like that road trip is canceled. I will make coffee.”  
Arthur had a series of questions, and so it took him a moment to sort them in his head and follow Nicholas across the house. He was still wrapped in the blanket and his bare feet were way too cold on the stone tiles in the corridor, but he knew if he went back to put on socks, he would just chicken out.  
In the kitchen door, he faltered. There was nothing more soothing than to watch Nicholas doing house work. He never seemed to realize what he was doing, his mind was always somewhere else and his movements mechanically precise. It was just… Nicholas. Who would never hurt him. Because he was in love with him. Aw fuck.  
“Hey, Nick. Did you hear what I said earlier?” Nick raised his eyes, puzzled, but still not entirely focused on him. It was probably better to wait until he was done with his new project, to bring this back up. Or maybe that was just him being a coward. “About me being straight.”  
“Oh.” Nicholas made a gesture with the open coffee container that could have meant just about anything. “Yes.”  
“So, I’m sorry if I made you think anything else. Are you… mad? Disappointed? Upset? You seem upset. If you need some time to process-” Maybe. He really should have waited for Nicholas to be in the right mindspace, this blank expression was starting to freak him out. Normally he was used to it, but normally their relationship had seemed clear cut. In a way. Alright, the lines had always been a little blurry.  
Nicholas laughed a small, breathless laugh, turned on the coffee maker and looked at him amused. Somehow, that was worse. “I am not upset, Arthur. I am not… any of that. A bit embarrassed, maybe. I got carried away, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”  
He hadn’t been uncomfortable until now.  
“Really? Because I haven’t known you to be the… hands-on type.”   
“I’m not. But I do occasionally feel emotions. You joke, but you know I’m not actually a robot, right?”  
“You’re also not actually funny. Seriously, you’ve never been funny. Since I’ve known you.” Despite that, Arthur huffed a laugh. He came closer, dropped the blanket over the back of a chair, but pulled his hands into the sleeves of his sweater. “So, we’re fine?”  
“Of course.” Without looking directly at him, Nicholas touched his arms and sighed, then he pulled him closer. “So no more kissing?” The question was not what he’d expected. There was a smirk in the corners of his mouth but even just asking at all felt uncomfortably bold from Nick. Maybe just because he’d never heard him talk about any of this stuff before, at least no more than necessary.   
“Um. I guess that’s what that means.”  
“It doesn’t have to be.”   
Didn’t it, though? Even now, it would have been so easy to drop all the questions and just let Nicholas hold him. He would have allowed it for sure, his body was so warm, so close, he was so, so close and smelled like home, literally like the house. Like the heather, rosemary and honeysuckle they kept around for protection, like aged paper and coffee powder and the cheap dollar store soap he used. The exact smell he kept waking up to. Was it a part of him, too? All he knew was, it made his heart ache, but not in the way Nicholas needed. Thinking about his feelings was like trying to get chewed gum out of his hair without ripping it out. Those stares were starting to make him twitchy, he’d never known anyone to just casually hold eye contact for this long, no way that wasn’t intentional. “It would suck if you got hurt, that’s all.”  
“Noted. And thank you. But I am a big boy, it takes a lot more than that to hurt me.”  
“A lot more than me?” It had been supposed to be a joke, but maybe it came out just a little bit reproachful.   
"More than that kiss. That was not what I would call heartbreak material. I have kissed straight men before, and usually they try a bit harder, that's all. But you clearly were not trying to impress me, so that figures.  
Nicholas had turned away to get a fresh mug from the cabinet, and when he looked at him again his face was even, but he had definitely sounded smug a second ago. Arthur's face turned hot and he huffed. Obviously he hadn't been trying to impress him. And he had been caught off guard! He felt almost a little bad for Nicholas walking into this so blindsided, but he kind of deserved it “Well, I suppose there’s no issue then, is there. You can just… kiss me whenever the hell you want, without anyone getting hurt.“ Yeah. Definitely touchy.  
“Excellent, I will take you up on that. After I got some work done.

„Anything in your dad's rituals?“ „Technically.“ Nicholas flipped to a page towards the end of the notebook and seemed to find the right one immediately. Arthur had never quite figured out how he did that, but it was just one of those things. Nicholas razor sharp focus could be a lot weirder and a lot scarier than the occult. „This one requires one of us to have tasted a poet.“   
„What does that even-“   
„I wouldn’t know.“ Nicholas’ voice was so testy that it nearly stopped Arthur from his laughing fit – but just nearly. His Sorcerer tried to maintain his disapproving look, but there was an amused glint in his eyes. „Could be cannibalism related. Could be a euphemism.“ „Or not.“ „Yes.“  
At first Nicholas had insisted on doing the research himself, but when Arthur ended up joining him on the couch, he didn’t complain. They were firmly planted back on the couch, next to each other and just being… normal. Like that kiss had never happened. Almost like Nicholas meant it when he said it was nothing. Maybe he was the one who was interpreting too much into it. But then on the other hand…  
Arthur was still laughing, his shoulders rocking helplessly, and there was a certain degree of hysteria underneath that reaction, that they both had gotten used to as a sort of base tone for his reaction to their bizarre life. He might have been dealing with these things for longer than the Waters’ siblings, but that sort of thing could never be normal. When he finally calmed down a little, Nicholas peered up from the notes and then put them down with a sigh. „I used to think rituals had to be worded this vaguely for some reason, but as it turns out my dad was just dramatic like that. Maybe it was his way of trying to make these notes harder to follow without him around.“   
„So… know any poets?“  
Nicholas shot him a look. „Yes. But I am past following rituals that I can not backwards engineer, especially if they are my fathers. Did not go so well the last few times.“  
He sat up and rubbed his eyes and it was only now that Arthur noticed how dark it had gotten in the living room. Tomes, note books in all states of use and crumpled paper from Nicholas' own attempts were lying between snack bags and dishes. Some paper scraps had fallen to the floor and he didn’t seem to have noticed. Arthur got up, turned on the lights and just stood in the door for a while, one hand on the light switch, taking that in.  
Nicholas looked up. He’d sat bent over, his face buried in his hands and all of that was new. He’d never looked so exhausted when pursuing a ritual, no matter how much it took out of him or how long it went on, as though as soon as he had a specific goal, that alone kept him going. „What?“, he asked now, not unkindly, and began to pick up some of the trash that had slowly crept outwards from where he sat. „Nothing, dude. I’ve just never seen this part of the process before. When you summoned me, you always had a ritual ready to go and everything prepped.“  
The way Nicholas rubbed his leg before getting up, made Arthur finally come over to help him clear the table. „Yes, well. It’s not the most prestigious part of the job. And I guess….“ „What?“ Their shoulders connected for a moment, when they reached for the same half-finished bag of Doritos and Arthur heard an uncharacteristically soft, breathy chuckle. „I guess there was no need for you to see this side of me. I can get a little carried away when I’m doing research. I have been informed, it is not my most agreeable quality.“  
Those words took a while to really sink into Arthur's head, but as he was stacking dishes in the sink, he suddenly stopped and turned around, the moment Nicholas stepped into the kitchen. „Dude. Were you... trying to impress me? And you thought, what? Seeing you in ‚cramming for your finals‘ mode would be what turns me off?“  
It was clear that he’d caught Nicholas off guard because he didn’t look at him, but he didn’t acknowledge it either. „You don’t have to say it like that.“  
„You say it then.“ There was some uncomfortable squirming, Nicholas was trying to get started on the dishes to distract his hands at least, but Arthur was casually blocking the sink, staring at him with a smug grin, until their eyes met.  
„I wanted you to like me“, Nicholas said, his voice brittle. „That is not exactly a secret.“  
„It’s crazy.“ Arthur stepped aside, but this time Nicholas was holding his stare and he looked different again, younger maybe, tender. It was hypnotic. Was this what he’d always looked like, before he got into contact with the occult?  
„What do you mean. I thought I had been pretty blunt.“   
„Yeah, sure, dude. Expressing your feelings, isn’t that your specialty? Oh, nooo…. It’s really not.“  
Nicholas huffed a laugh and finally stepped up to him, shaking his head. They were very close, Arthur could feel his arm pressing up against him when he shifted to take weight off his leg. He’d sort of assumed Nicholas had been in less pain, because he’d been using his cane less, but now he was starting to wonder.   
„Fine. Maybe you’re right. But I wasn’t trying to be… obscure on purpose. I have never been very good with people, and that was my fault, it has never been a priority. But you have been. A priority, that is. So, if I didn’t invite you over when I was like this, it is just because I… because you seemed to think that I did all of this effortlessly. Like I was always in control and had the answers to everything. No harm in making you believe that for a little longer.“ Nicholas looked up. He’d tried to hand a plate over. But Arthur didn’t take it, he was just staring at him, tea towel in his hand, and the water began to drip on the ground. The lack of a reaction made Nicholas defensive. „Look, I always knew I would find a way to bring your body back, eventually. If I had had any doubts about that, I would have told you, I knew what I was doing, that’s not what I mean.“  
„Hey no, Nick, dude. I know.“ His voice was flat, so very flat, but some life returned to Arthur's body and he took the plate, like he wasn’t totally sure what he was holding. Then he put it down and embraced him. Although startled, Nicholas put his arms around him immediately, tightly wrapped around his shoulders, to match the energy of Arthur's fingers digging into his back. If it had been anyone else, if he hadn’t known the frayed nerves underneath that grip, it would have felt like an assault, rather than a hug.  
If he wiped his eyes on Nicholas’ shirt, that really wasn’t anyone’s business. „Just. Shut up, please.“ He was trying to sound as off-handed as he used to, but he had a treacherous body now, that gave away how his breath caught in his lungs and his throat threatened to close up. And he felt bad. Bad about using Nick for comfort like this, when he couldn’t even begin to understand the feelings he had for him, let alone reciprocate them.  
Nicholas rested his cheek against Arthur's hair and held him for a little longer, staring into the middle distance with a look of mild panic.  
„You’re a pretty decent hugger, Nick.“   
„So I hear.“   
Arthur laughed, an awkward, choked sound somewhere near his collar bone. „Seriously. Stop talking, dude.“


	6. Chapter 6

His childhood bedroom was smaller than he remembered and felt like something he had seen in a movie a long time ago, rather than a real memory. The last hours had been a complete flurry, he had finally found the resolve to come back and after the initial shock wore off, there had been just about as much yelling and crying as he had expected. Someone had called the police and they had shown up, not completely sure what to do. They didn’t deal with people returning from the dead as often as one would expect.  
Now he was back here, lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling and feeling strangely numb and empty, like he had poured all of his emotions into whatever the hell that had been. Wasn’t he supposed to feel more? Wasn’t he supposed to have a big emotional breakdown, seeing his family again after all this time? He loved them… or at least he’d thought he did. But none of that felt real, he felt like a specter moving through memories of this big, empty house that, when he was younger, he took every chance to escape. He hadn’t felt like himself until he moved out to his dorm, now that he thought about it. And now he didn’t even feel real, when he was away from home. From Nicholas’ place. Was that home now?  
Suddenly it made sense, what Nicholas had said about being separated for a while. He didn’t like thinking about it, but it wasn’t just that he felt unsafe when he was away from Nick, he felt untethered, unreal, because for the longest time Nick had been the only thing in his life that… he had been the only thing in his life, period. How was he supposed to relate to people who wouldn’t even have been able to comprehend him a couple of months ago?  
But they were his family. They were his family, weren’t they supposed to make him feel like himself again? Or like anyone, at least? Maybe he just needed to stick this one out, eventually, it would come back. He would come back. He couldn’t let this be the linchpin of his life! And if being away from that strange place would help… Yes. He needed to focus on himself right now.  
There was a knock on the door and he sat up with a start, it opened before he could react, and Allison slipped into the room. His sister was four years younger than him, had the perfect gold blond hair he spent a lot of hydrogen peroxide on achieving, and always looked at him like she knew something he didn’t. Or maybe that wasn’t her, specifically, maybe that was just how younger siblings were supposed to look.  
“How’s the state of the union?”  
“After you left we bullied dad into taking a xanax, mom is still crying, but I think she’ll turn in soon. So… what happened?”  
Arthur sighed, sounding pressed and brushed back his hair. “I told you already, it isn’t important.”  
“Oh yeah. You yelled that actually, eight times, increasing in volume. You know that it doesn’t start making sense because you keep getting louder, right?”  
“Dude, it doesn’t make a difference. It’s over. I just wanna move on.”  
“It’s not getting any easier the longer you wait. Dude.”  
“I know that.”  
They looked at each other for a long time. Finally Allison sighed and walked across the room to open a window in the back. She whipped out a pack of cigarettes and offered it to him. He frowned, but joined her after a moment.  
“What’s with that face?”, she asked while she snapped her lighter.  
“I kinda forgot I used to smoke. Guess I’ve been… detoxing:”  
“Hey, if you don’t want it-”  
“I didn’t say that…”  
Still, when the cigarettes were lit he couldn’t help but look over his shoulder back at the door.  
“Are you sure this is…”  
“It’s fine. Mom doesn’t come up here anymore, bad knee.”  
He huffed a laugh, but didn’t get into it, and she didn’t ask. For a while they just stood there, blowing smoke out of the window and staring into the garden two stories below them. It was hard to see details in the dark, but the shapes were painfully familiar, and this time he welcomed the melancholic sting. That was what he was supposed to feel, right? … he wasn’t actually sure. Maybe, if he had been pulled out of limbo by someone with any level of emotional competence, he wouldn’t be in this situation now. But no… he couldn’t really pin this one on Nicholas.  
“So, what’s the theory?” It was strangely tranquil, just standing there next to each other without being expected to talk, just like they had a very long time ago when they definitely shouldn’t have. He didn’t even have to look at her and that made it easier to be calm.  
“What theory?”  
“You guys must have a theory about what happened to me? I don’t know what I’d think if I was in your place. It’s a shitty situation.”  
“Yeah, one you put us in, dumbass. … they’re pretty sure it’s a cult thing.”  
The word raised the hair in Arthurs neck and he pulled a face. Ew. Seriously, he hadn’t thought about the Cult in a while, and he hadn’t missed it. But of course she wouldn’t know about that, she meant it in a more general sense.  
“A cult-thing?”  
“Yeah, sure. What else would we think? With the weird shit you got involved with before you left, the occult mumbo-jumbo, the nail-polish, the-”  
“Alright, alright, jesus. I didn’t join a cult, man. I just…”  
Allison looked at his profile for a long minute, but she didn’t push. He had been surprised by how much she was taking the whole thing in stride, but in a way that was comforting. Maybe it wasn't just him who was numb. Maybe it was genes, or the catholicism. Maybe he could still be saved.  
“Well… until you feel like finishing that sentence, I guess we won’t know any better. … you’re a dick, you know that? You come back and just expect us to… you’re just a dick.”  
It didn’t sound like she was trying to hurt him. If she wanted to, she would have probably thought of something a bit more creative, too. She was just stating a fact, and one he didn’t know how to argue with. So he sighed.  
“Yeah, dude. Don’t I know it.”

It took a few days for things to calm down, but it was shocking to Arthur how fast his life normalised, once he was out of NIcholas’ house. With three meals a day, plus tea time, and surrounded by a constant air of vague disappointment, he began to feel right at home pretty quickly. Which wasn’t to say that he was free from Nicholas’ influence. The man was constantly on his mind, and there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. Now that he had some distance, a lot of the things Nicholas had done and said appeared in a different light, and he often found himself staring off into the distance, going through things again and again as though, if he tried hard enough, he would maybe find a hidden layer of meaning. As though if he thought about it long enough, he could figure out how he should have reacted to that kiss… and how he could make it alright now. Maybe take it back. But he wasn’t there yet - he didn’t even know what he wished he’d done.  
He was doing exactly that, sitting uncomfortably on the couch in the living room with the television spooling off its program into the void, when Allison flung open the door. He had automatically curled up in the armchair a few times before, like he was used to doing in Nicholas house, but after their new housekeeper had thrown him a few ugly looks, he had learnt to keep his feet down. It made him feel strangely exposed, only one more reminder that there was probably plenty that he needed to work through, as soon as he had figured out how to stop suppressing it for long enough.  
Allison's enthusiasm had startled him for a day or so, now he barely turned his head to her. He wasn’t sure which reaction made her look more concerned, but he couldn’t bear to consider that on top of everything else, it was hard enough to keep himself together these days. “There’s some creep at the gate that definitely looks like he might be in a cult, so we assume he’s here for you. Do you want us to buzz him in?”  
That didn’t take long to figure out, at least. “Mustache, bad leg? Looks like he hasn’t slept in a week? … that’s Nicholas, buzz him in.”  
Somehow, he couldn’t be bothered to be surprised at Nicholas' appearance. If anything, he had expected him to show up sooner.  
Allison gave him a curious look and turned to pass that on, but Arthurs brain did a desperate little lurch and he got to his feet quickly. “No, wait. I’ll meet him outside.”  
Now she was unabashedly ready to pry. “Who’s Nicholas?”  
“Now’s really not the moment.”  
“Is he from your cult?”  
Arthur huffed and walked past her to put on his shoes. “There is no cult.”  
“So you keep saying. And yet-”  
“Can we have this conversation another time…?”  
Before Allison could exactly reply, Arthur slipped outside, crossed the front court in a half-run and personally opened the visitor gate. He struggled for a moment, it was old and always got stuck halfway. Their eyes met immediately.  
Nicholas had to have been waiting there for a while, but his face lit up when he saw Arthur. “Hi.”  
It was hard to criticise him showing up at his parents place, when he was so obviously relieved to see him. No one else ever beamed at him like that, it made his stomach feel a bit sick. No… not sick, that wasn’t the right word. “Hey there.”  
For a moment they just looked at each other in silence, then Nicholas pulled something from his pocket with an awkward smile. “You forgot your charger.”  
Arthur would have laughed, but he managed to keep it in and grabbed the cable. “Thank you. I would have hated to have to buy a new one.”  
“It’s always good to have a backup. And it looks like you can afford it. This is quite the place.”  
Arthur looked over his shoulder at his parents' two story mansion. Sad patches of grass stretched out left and right of the driveway that lead up to a pair of double-staircases. He knew it had to seem imposing for someone who was used to city architecture, where nothing was more precious than space, but to him it just looked draining.  
“What, this old thing? … Wait how did you find it anyways? You don’t even know my last name.”  
“I do now.” Nicholas paused, then he sighed like he already regretted answering the question. “... I had a general idea of when you would have been reported missing, I knew the area, your age and your first name… it wasn’t that difficult.”  
“Wow. All that for my phone charger.”  
“Of course. And…”  
“You were worried.”  
“Maybe. … yes. You are not actually coming back any time soon, are you?”  
“... I think it’s a good idea for me to stay here for a while. My family is… pretty upset.”  
“Oh, I sympathise, believe me. It’s… it’s for the best, I’m sure. I am asking because-”  
Nicholas pulled something else from his pocket, and this time Arthur did start laughing. It was an old fashioned, well-used hip flask. “Thanks, dude. I’m definitely gonna need that around here.”  
“I wouldn’t drink that if I were you. It’s mostly blood from a rat. Although who am I to tell you what to do.”  
Arthur scoffed and then pulled a face at the flask before quickly putting it away. “A protection ritual?”  
“Yes. Like what we did back at the house. I have done all the necessary bits, you just need to put it on the wall.”  
“You knew I was going to stay here for a while.”  
“It was my idea after all.”  
“... you didn’t need to do this.”  
“Then why did I feel like I do? I am not comfortable with the idea of you having nowhere… safe to go. I don’t think that anyone knows who you are, but I prefer to be prepared.”  
“Guess that always worked well for you.”  
Nicholas gave him a little smile that was unusually telling, it was soaked in something intense, almost painfully so, but Arthur couldn’t place it at all. “It worked well for the both of us”, he said quietly and touched Arthurs arm. He wasn’t sure which one of them moved, but suddenly their chests almost touched, and Nick's warm breath was on his face. They couldn’t do that, obviously not here in his parents front yard. But seeing Nick had been so damn good, it had alleviated a pain he hadn’t even been aware of, as though he had finally let go of a muscle he’d clenched for so long that it had become his normal.  
“I think you just popped that balloon.” Both of them recoiled with startled sounds. Allison had somehow snuck up on them and was now looking back and forth between them.  
When he found his composure again, Nicholas looked mildly confused. “I don’t think I understand.”  
Arthur grunted. “Catholic joke. Not a good one. Allison, this is kind of a grown up conversation, so maybe give us some fucking privacy?”  
“You’ve had years of privacy, so no. You’re Nicholas?”  
“Yes. Allison? Hello.”  
It would have been hilarious to hear Nicholas use his quiet, tender outside voice again, the one he used for strangers, people he wanted to disappear around, if the situation hadn’t put him so on edge.  
“So, Arthur says you’re not from his cult.”  
“Allison-”  
“Of course not. No affiliations. Arthur, how much did you-”  
“So there is a cult.”  
“Can you guys just- stop?” Arthur took a deep breath and Nicholas looked extremely uncomfortably at the two of them. “Maybe I should just leave.”  
“Allison, Nicholas is the reason I am back in the first place. But if you think he is going to tell you anything- he won’t, alright.”  
“So, you’re what? Some sort of deprogrammer?”  
“Does he look like he’s police to you?”  
“He definitely looks like a narc.”  
For a moment they all talked over each other, then Nicholas took a little step back. “I shouldn’t have come here like this, I’m sorry. I will leave you alone. Am I… going to hear from you?”  
No matter how stressed he was, hearing Nicholas address him in that little voice, hurt. “Yes. Yes, of course. I’ll hit you up, alright?”  
“Thank you. … Be careful.”  
“Since you asked nicely.”  
Nicholas smiled a matted smile and Arthur could tell that he wanted to touch him, but he stopped himself and only nodded vaguely at Allison, before he slipped back out through the gate. Arthur stared after him, before he turned to Allison who had already opened her mouth. “Can we… not do this right now. Please?”  
And for once, even though she was clearly tired of hearing that, something in his voice compelled his sister to only answer in a curt little nod. They were quiet on their walk back to the house, and he put his arm around her without turning his head.

The peace between them lasted for a while, but a couple of days later Allison walked past the open door of his room, froze and backtracked to stare at him.  
Arthur was on a ladder, his hair tied back into the tiniest pigtail. He was wearing a flannel shirt and a completely ruined pair of bluejeans. The floors and furniture were covered with tarp.  
“What are you doing?”  
“I’m repainting”, her brother replied automatically. He sounded absent, too focused on what he was doing to pay her much mind. Allison stared at him for a while, her arms crossed in front of her chest.  
“Why?”  
“I thought it could use a new coat of paint, it must have been at least ten years.”  
“... but why are you doing it? Have you ever painted a wall before?”  
“Plenty. Nicholas and I redid the whole house when he moved in.”  
“What house?”  
“His house.”  
“Is that why you look like you fell into a series of paint buckets?” Finally Allison came closer, stepping carefully on the tarp so she wouldn’t get any paint on her socks, and tugged on his jean leg. It was splattered in several different colours.  
“Jup.”  
“And what’s the house look like now?”  
“I don’t know, fine? It looks fine. Nicholas wouldn’t accept a subpar paint job, Allison. He’s… persnickety.”  
“Never heard you use that word before.”  
“I’ve never met anyone it fit so well.”  
Allison smiled, vaguely, he wasn’t really sure what he was laughing about. There was a pause, Arthur didn’t seem to mind her being there and watching him, but he had also become a lot less talkative in the years he was away. “You smell weird, you know that? You both do. What is that?”  
“What do you mean?” Arthur tried to sniff his shirt and spilled a whole lot of paint on the tarp. “Oh, it’s probably the heather. I used to think it doesn’t smell like much but after a while it kinda gets in your skin. Never noticed that on me.”  
“Heather, is that a herb or something?”  
“No it’s, like, a plant?” Arthur dipped his brush into the paint again, so he missed Allison's doubtful look. She really wished she was sure whether he was kidding or not.  
She was quiet for a while, trying to figure out if this was the right moment. Eventually she just sighed. “I didn’t tell mom. About your guest.”  
“Thanks. It would have been a whole… thing.”  
“But are you gonna tell me… what was up with that?”  
“What was up with what?” Arthur didn’t turn to face her. He pretended to be focused on his wall, but she could tell from his expression that he was listening.  
“You know with what. Why was he here? Honestly, this would be easier if you stopped playing dumb.”  
Arthur hesitated, sighed and finally turned to sit down on his ladder and look at her. “Have you considered that maybe I am dumb?”  
She shrugged and made a vague gesture, “I have considered it.”  
“Nick just… dropped off my phone charger. Why are you obsessing over this?”  
“Why am I obsessing over the years that my brother was not dead?” Allison sighed and rolled up her sleeves and grabbed another paint roller. Arthur eyed her suspiciously.  
“What are you doing?”  
“Helping you, what does it look like I’m doing?... what? It can’t be that hard.”  
Arthur very intentionally said nothing. He was starting to feel more relaxed lately, his anxiety had begun to fade, but it made room for other feelings, that weren’t necessarily any more comfortable. Like the guilt he had been putting off for years, the weight of what he had done to his family, to innocent people while he was gone. It was still somewhat numb, he still felt sedated, but it was there, constantly nagging in the back of his head. And he missed Nicholas… This time, it didn’t feel unhealthy. It didn’t feel like he couldn’t do this without him, like being without him was a threatening prospect. He just… missed him.  
Even though they had less than nothing in common and disagreed on everything, Nick had always gotten him on a different, deeper level, he had understood the kind of support he needed, all the little things he couldn’t talk about because words diminished them. It was comforting to know that at least one person was always in his corner.  
“You should go out sometime.”  
Arthur looked up and frowned, then he slowly climbed off his ladder to move it. “Why?”  
“So you’re surrounded by normal people for once in your life.”  
“Oh, so you won’t be there then?”  
Allison rolled her eyes and didn’t bother to respond. “All I am saying is… it might be good for you to be surrounded by your peers. We’re going out this weekend, there will be some people you know… used to know. Just give it some thought.”  
And he did, even though he knew it was the very last thing he wanted to do.


	7. Chapter 7

It took him three weeks to get himself together enough to actually take Allison up on her offer. He hadn’t spoken to anyone from what he thought of as his pre-payphone life yet, but he knew that they had heard about him being back. It was hard to imagine what kind of talk had to be going on. While he was gone, his sister had connected with some of his friends, trying to figure out what had happened to him and the thought was bizarre. The thought of how close she had gotten to learning about the weirdness he was involved in… he had felt pretty cool back then, for knowing about all of that, but the idea of Allison touching on that part of his life was bone chilling.   
Luckily, everyone who did know about it seemed to have kept a lid on it and, as much as he hated lying to his family, he wouldn’t be the one to mess that up. The less people got involved with this magic bullshit, the better.  
Somehow, even when he thought about getting his old life back, he had never seen himself going to house parties again, it felt like something he had thoroughly outgrown - and he regretted going the moment Allison shoved him through the front door like a piece of luggage. He didn’t even remember the last time he had been around this many people at once, it was impossible to breathe and the dim lighting reminded him of the limbo twilight.   
Allison had told him exactly whose parents’ living room they were standing in, but he had forgotten the moment she closed her mouth. He didn’t know any of her friends and at the end of the day he had been too old for all this before he ever made the deal with payphone.   
He had expected to be shaken up by the experience of going out and meeting people again, but nothing like that happened. The world around him was still muted, he still felt numb. Probably for the best, if he was going to have the meltdown he had earned, it didn’t necessarily have to be in this dump.  
He followed Allison through the house, they threaded through a bunch of people standing around and chatting, some of them greeted her, but no one seemed to recognise him specifically. Good. He hadn’t quite figured out how to deal with that yet, he hadn’t even processed reconnecting with his family yet. Why had he ever thought it was a good idea to leave Nicholas’ bedroom? Just now, he would have killed for one of those hugs that smelled like home and made him feel like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. He should go back soon. At least for a while. His parents would have to get used to that, anyways.  
Arthur blinked. They were in the kitchen, it was more quiet here, and Allison had plucked a beer from the fridge that seemed to contain nothing else, and handed it to him. Or rather she was holding it out with a frown, and he had no idea how long she had been standing there like that before he took it. “Thank you”, he said carefully; she didn’t comment, but just took one for herself and closed the fridge. She looked around for a bottle opener, then she smiled and tossed him her lighter. “You think you can still do it?”  
Truth be told, he had no idea, but at least he caught her meaning immediately. Arthur took the lighter, tapped it against the sticky table top for good luck and then opened the bottle. The bottle cap flipped across the room and out of sight, Arthur saw someone in the corridor outside the kitchen duck away from it, but it just made them chuckle. He handed the open beer over to his sister, attempting to repeat the stunt, but this time he struggled to get the little lever lodged under the cap. Maybe it was because some part of his brain was busy wondering what Nicholas would say if he could see him right now. He had to wonder if it would make him laugh under his breath, always without looking at him. The thought, the memory of that little laugh, made his chest feel strangely tight. For a moment Nicholas' presence was so strong in his head, that it didn’t even startle him when someone took the bottle from his hands. He knew how Nicholas felt about alcohol.   
But it wasn’t Nicholas, because Nicholas wasn’t there. The face he saw instead was almost as heart wrenchingly familiar though.   
Anya had been his friend ever since high-school, a flighty, mischievous presence and nothing like anyone else who was willing to put up with him. Compared to him, she was driven, savvy and almost sophisticated. Maybe that was why they had drifted apart while he was in college. Maybe that was why he hadn’t noticed his life coming apart. “You’ve always struggled with basic life skills. I thought you would have gotten better by now… definitely didn’t think you could get any worse.” Anya opened the bottle, handed it back to him and looked at him with an intensity that reminded him of Nicholas. Her makeup was perfect and at this point, that was intimidating. Being threatened by interdimensional horrors had been so much less stressful than this. “You don’t look very surprised to see me.”  
“I’m not. Everyone knows you’re back. We just didn’t get to see you yet. But your sister texted me when she managed to get you in the car.” Arthur looked over to Allison, but she just winked at him and took her beer for a walk. Arthur struggled to stop himself from holding her back. Instead, he slowly looked back to Anya. She had changed, something about her face had fundamentally changed in a way that wasn’t as obvious as his sister just growing up. In a way it only reminded him more of how much time he had lost and how stuck he was.   
“Still”, he finally said, quieter, now that they were alone in the kitchen, although there was still music droning in from the rest of the house, “I guess I expected people to be more freaked out.”  
“People have their own stuff going on, and I for my part have seen enough true crime shows to know that this was an option. And also..” She stopped and bit her perfectly bold red lip.   
“What? No, come on, don’t do this. Tell me.”  
“Well. Is it evil to say that I’m glad you’re the one that came back?”  
“What… what does that mean?” Anya looked at him, more uncomfortable than surprised that he didn’t know what she was talking about. When he reached for her, she brushed off his hand casually and just shifted on her high heels. It vaguely registered in his mind, that she had dressed up even though she could only be here for him. Even if she had been hanging out with his sister, this just wasn’t her age group. And if he had outgrown stuffy, sticky house parties, she had done so a very long time ago.  
“I need a drink. And you're gonna need one, too.”  
“I’m good with beer.”  
“No, trust me.” She walked out and he followed her, because he didn’t know what else to do with himself. Her words had kickstarted another bout of impending doom in him, and if there was anything or anyone for him to hold onto, he would need it. They found a seat on the couch after circling through the house for a bit, and Anya didn’t immediately start talking again. She poured him something that smelled like gasoline and mixed it with off-brand lemonade, looking just as disgusted with it as him - he hadn’t had alcohol in too long for him to actually be able to discern what they were drinking without looking at the bottle. He was pretty sure it didn’t matter. He had a sip, his beer standing next to him completely untouched, and it awoke a familiar nausea, that he knew would pass. He should probably be careful. There was no way for him to tell if his body was still used to alcohol at all after all these years. On the other hand… it had been exactly the way he left it… Arthur rubbed his arms absently at that thought, the wounds left over from the ritual all those years ago had healed up, but they still felt sensitive sometimes.   
Anya, who had none of the same issues, had almost emptied her plastic cup already and while she looked like she might throw up, he had a feeling that it wasn’t about the booze. He felt a little bad for making her so uncomfortable, but he was also tired of people keeping things from him, thinking they were protecting him. Right now, they were surrounded by faces he didn’t know, music that was shrill and discordant in his ears, and he felt no less alone than he had back in limbo. He needed to hear this, whatever it was. If he didn’t catch up with real life, he would never feel like a real person again. Eventually, after another drink, Anya came close enough to curl up in his arms, her body was pressed against him and it was shockingly soft and shockingly warm. Until now, he hadn’t even realised how out of touch with, well… touch he had become. His arm wrapped around her automatically, but it sent a jolt of aimless panic through his system, that he knew well enough to just let it pass.  
And then she told him exactly what he had missed, exactly what he had been too scared to ask all those times, and it was nearly the last thing he remembered about that evening.


	8. Chapter 8

It had been nearly exactly a month since Arthur had all but moved out, and Nicholas was not settling into life without him. For all the experience he had, being alone, there was no way he could put him out of his mind for more than a few hours. And it was no wonder. For years, Arthur had been all his life had revolved around, they had grown so close. Having him gone felt like missing half of his brain and he was fully convinced that the house was quieter now, than before Arthur ever moved in. If that was what had happened. They had never once agreed on Arthur living there, he had no reason to assume that Arthur considered this his house - except that he wanted him to. It was ridiculous, of course. As opposed to him, Arthur had somewhere to go, he had a family to live with, one that didn’t keep him involved with the very thing that took his life from him. And it seemed like Arthur had begun to realise that, as well. He had no reason to come back at all. Nicholas knew that, if anything, he was a sore reminder of the time Arthur had lost. But he wasn’t quite ready to accept that, just as he had been afraid all those weeks and months ago, by setting him free, he might have lost Arthur for good. Of course, it was still the right decision. Of course, he would have still done it again, given the chance. Or at least he liked to think so.  
Be that as it may, when his phone rang, he was very quick to pick it up, even before he saw Arthur's name on the display. There weren’t a lot of people calling him and, either way, he could use the distraction. It was late, he had a feeling that probably wasn’t a good sign. “Arthur. What’s wrong?” The first thing he heard was just background noise and then a voice that definitely didn’t belong to Arthur. “Hey… Nick?”   
His body grew very cold, very quickly. If something happened to him- “Who are you?  
“You know Arthur, right?”  
“Where is he?”  
“He’s right here, look. I don’t know who you are, but you’re the only number in his phone that isn’t his family, so… if you’re friends you should probably come pick him up.”  
“What’s wrong? What’s wrong with him?”  
“Nothing, he’s just… way drunk and stirring up trouble. Someone called the police, and I just… look, it’s none of my business, but he’s got priors and I don’t think he deserves to be here when the cops show up.”  
Oh, for god’s sake. Not the kind of trouble he had expected but… Nicholas was already heaving himself back on his unstable feet. “Just give me the address, I’ll be there.” Somehow. He still needed to get a car in time. It was pretty late, hopefully the streets would be clear.  
He got there in time, and the house was easy enough to spot with the tumult going on in the front yard. When he pulled up, he spotted Arthur immediately. Just now his sister had grabbed him by the arms and was talking to him emphatically, but he didn’t seem to be listening. Oh, for god’s sake. After a few seconds, Nicholas got out of the car, somewhat struggling with his cane. He walked up as quickly as he could and touched Arthur’s shoulder. “Hey-” For the first time, he struggled to grab his attention. Allison was wrapped up in her coat and looked distinctly stressed, she only let go of her brother now. “He kind of started a fight, I don’t know the details, he won’t talk to me. But he’s refusing to come home with me. I shouldn’t have brought him.”  
“It’s fine, I have him. Arthur.” Nicholas pulled him gently and touched his cheek to make Arthur look at him, but also to check if he had gotten himself injured. There were a lot of conflicting feelings in his chest but now, for the first time, he realised how scared he had been on the drive over. Maybe Arthur wasn’t the one who had been anxious moving out, he had apparently only been waiting for something like this to happen, and it made him feel bad. Arthur was a grown man, he could look after himself. Finally he looked at him, and his eyes took a moment to focus on Nicholas. “Come on, let’s go home. We will talk tomorrow.”  
He wasn’t sure if it was something he had said, or if it was an entirely internal process, but a little shift in his face was iIcholas’ only warning, before Arthur took a swing and hit him right in the face. It wasn’t a brutal hit, even when it happened he had a feeling that Arthur could have hurt him far more if he had been trying to, but the leg Nicholas tried to steady himself on gave in and he landed hard on the floor, making the whole thing look more dramatic than it needed to.  
Arthur looked as shocked as the people around him, and immediately there were hands helping Nicholas back to his feet, but the seconds that he was on the floor, looking up at Arthur with pain blooming in different parts of his body like spilled ink opened a chasm in his stomach that terrified him. This nauseating anger wasn’t new, quite the opposite, it was something he was used to feeling and folding up neatly inside himself. But it was the last thing he wanted to feel towards Arthur. Someone helped him back on his feet, but he didn’t turn to look at them. He just made sure he was somewhat stable, picked up his cane and walked back up to Arthur, slowly. The surprise and discomfort in Arthurs sedate face turned into something that uncomfortably resembled fear.   
Nicholas had to take a deep breath to keep his voice steady. “Just get in the car.” This time, Arthur did, and Nicholas followed him in small insecure steps. He felt like something had broken, something that wasn’t in his hip or his messed up leg. And the feeling made him sick already.


	9. Chapter 9

Even though Arthur crawled out of bed with the worst headache he could remember having, he still seemed to be the first person up. His memories of the last night were blurred at best and if his previous bouts of drunkenness were any indication, that was probably for the best. He dragged himself into the kitchen - he was still wearing the clothes from the day before - automatically turned on the coffee maker and started making tea. Or at least he was going to, but the coffee can was gone. It took him a while to puzzle together that Nicholas had to have gotten up before him and made coffee himself. Huh. Logically, he had to have done this the entire month that he was gone… this was the first time he actually came to realise that, though. He had only just sat down with his tea, when Nicholas sidled in through the door. He hesitated when he saw him, clinging to his coffee mug, but eventually he stepped inside and closed the door. “Good morning.”  
Arthur looked up, and despite how he felt, the change was massive. He hadn’t noticed how dull the world had seemed until he looked at Nicholas, and it was technicolor bright again. Every single feeling he’d had over the last week fell into place, and the cluttered feeling he had been struggling with finally dissolved. Except Nicholas didn’t look equally as happy to see him. His face was as guarded as usual, but even more tired and there was a deep blue bruise on his cheekbone. Arthur found himself gasp a little, and then laughed, surprised by his own reaction. “Holy shit, did I-”  
Nicholas automatically raised his hand, but dropped it again before it reached his face. “...yes. you don’t remember?”  
“No, I do. Just…” Arthur groaned softly and buried his face in his hands. “I wasn’t trying to get this wasted, I feel like shit.”  
Before he sat down, Nicholas visibly braced himself and then pulled an aspirin from his pocket and put it down on the table in front of him. For a moment he looked at him from across it, then he stared into what was left of his coffee.  
Arthur ran both hands through his hair and sighed. “Dude, I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened. I don’t know what I was thinking.”  
“We don’t need to get into it now.”  
With a frown, Arthur took the aspirin and flushed it down with a swig of tea that was still way too hot. “Yeah, that sounds convincing. Are you hurt? I don’t think it’s going to-”  
He had reached over and touched Nick's face, who didn’t pull away, but froze where he was sitting and stared at him with a face that was losing its calm composure fast. Maybe this was a little more serious than he’d given it credit for. “You know I didn’t mean to hurt you, right?”  
“Maybe. But you did, so does it matter?”  
“Wh- of course it matters, Nick. If I’d been sober-”  
“But you weren’t.”  
Arthur did not like where this was going. He could feel the energy between them shift. It had been years since Nicholas had made him this uneasy. “Well. No. Obviously I made some bad decisions in my life, alert the news, literally no one is surprised. Why are you making such a big deal out of this? You have seen me do way worse at the drop of a hat. Because you weren’t the one telling me to do it?”  
Even now, Nicholas didn’t seem angry. The look he gave Arthur was deeply uncomfortable though, hurt, and Arthur felt it drain the anger out of him as quickly as it had come.  
“No. Because it was me. We don’t do this kind of thing to each other. That is the whole point. I would never lay a hand on you, and I was hoping you felt the same.”  
“Well that’s easy for you to say. You don’t drink. Sometimes things just happen.”  
“They do. That is why I don’t drink. Because I don’t want to risk doing something that… I can’t undo.”  
“What does that mean? Nick…? What are you saying?”  
“I am not saying anything. Nothing changed. I just know where we stand now. I trusted you too much for no good reason and that’s not your fault.”  
For no good reason his ass. Arthur tried to find that anger again, but instead his breath came shallow and caught in his chest. “Look, there’s no reason to overreact…”  
“You think I am overreacting?”  
“Yes! Obviously you’re overreacting! You know I care about you, I think I’ve proven that at this point.”  
He could tell that Nicholas was bracing for this conversation, he had lost sleep over this. It was not an issue that he had dug up this morning, or even the night before. Nicholas had been scared he would be unable to trust him for a while, and the realisation made him a little dizzy. “No, you haven’t proven anything. That is the point! You have never done anything for me that you could have refused, Arthur. Before the ritual, everything we did only profited ourselves, and the moment you get your free will you hit me in the face. That is what I am reacting to. You came back and you left and then you hit me, me in the face, when there is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe. I feel like an idiot.”  
“Nick, that’s-”  
“It’s reasonable. It’s the first reasonable thing I have said since the ritual. I don’t blame you Arthur, but I also can’t trust you, because if you won’t protect me, I have to do it myself. As opposed to you, I have no one to fall back on. It’s only ever been me.”  
Arthur took a deep, shaky breath. Him and Nicholas were staring at each other across the table, his head was still pounding and he had no idea how to resolve this, he didn’t even know what was going on. Nicholas had been a solid presence in his life for years and they had never been in a situation like this. “That’s bullshit, Nick. It’s not fair.”  
“It’s not. And I care a lot about you. But I have to start making better decisions.”  
Arthur tried a smile again, because if he behaved normal for long enough, that usually served to smooth out Nick's moods. “Sounds like you’re not mad, just disappointed.”  
For a heartbeat it almost seemed like he wasn’t going to get an answer, then Nick suddenly got up, grabbing the edge of the table. “No. I am mad.”  
Arthur hadn’t heard Nicholas genuinely angry very often, but it had always made a lasting impression. This time, hearing the way he stretched his vowels before leaving the kitchen, Arthur felt like he had been closely missed by a runaway train.

It took him a while to get himself together enough to seek out Nick's study. He knocked and stuck his head inside. Usually, Nick barely reacted when he was disturbed while researching, but this time he turned around before he could even say anything. “Hey… Nick.” He came inside hesitantly. Nicholas looked like usual, careful and guarded, not unfriendly, but somehow that only made him more unsettling today.  
For a second there, in the kitchen, he had remembered that Nicholas had killed much bigger things than him. He pretended to know what he was capable of, but the truth was that Nicholas still performed most of his rituals on his own and only bothered him when he needed a second pair of hands. And these last weeks, of course… Even in his study that was always more dim, that silly bruise on Nick's face was very dark and seemed to accuse him of things he never meant to think. This was bullshit! All of this was bullshit, he hadn’t wanted this. He wanted to make sure Nick was okay, he wanted to… to hold him, alright. The truth was, he wanted to get back at whoever hurt him, and hated that that was him. And it was almost worse that Nicholas knew it too, that there was nothing he could do to talk himself out of this one… of all the people he had ever loved, Nick was the one who never seemed to think of him as a failure. His face had always lit up when he looked at him, before he even had anything to look at. In many ways it had been easier when he was stuck in limbo. At least their relationship had been clear.  
“So… I’m gonna leave now, I guess. Thank you for picking me up… and everything.”  
“Do you need a cab, or is someone coming to get you?”  
“I’ll call one. Hey, um… do you… do you want me to come back here? This isn’t- you do want that, right?”  
There was no immediate answer. Nicholas rubbed his hands almost as though he was cold, then he pressed them against the armrest of his chair to keep them still. “This is your home as much as it is mind, Arthur.”  
“Yeah, no. That’s not a fucking answer, Nicholas.”  
“We don’t need to talk about this right now.”  
“I think we do.”  
Nicholas took a few slow breaths and still didn’t reply.  
“Look, I’m sorry I’m not living up to your expectations, but it was a slip up. You weren’t even supposed to be there!”  
“This is not about my expectations.”  
“Yes! Yes, it is! You had a plan for how I was supposed to be after you brought me back, and when I didn’t fall into your arms, expressing my overflowing gratitude, somehow it was my fault!”  
There was a beat of silence, and he could actually see the colour drain out of Nick's face. He opened his mouth to speak, and then flinched when his phone made a shrill sound. “Nick, I-”  
He held up a hand and shook his head. “There is someone at the door.”  
“What? I didn’t hear the doorbell.”  
“It didn’t ring… Stay here. I will see what is going on.”  
“Nick, listen-” Arthur reached for Nick's arm, but this time, for the first time, Nicholas pulled away and he looked angry. Not angry-by-his-standards. Just fuming. “For once in your life, Arthur. Check yourself. Stay here.”  
And for a couple of minutes or so, the fright sat so deep in his bones that he obliged. Then he snapped out of it, although he still felt sick to his stomach. He listened, but heard no voices from the foyer.   
What was he even worried about? Nick couldn’t tell him to stay like he was some kind of pet dog, that wasn't the relationship they had anymore. … It would have been easier to think that way. It would have been easier to be mad at him, but unfortunately, the guilt was still nestled in his stomach.  
Still, he left the study to tell Nicholas off, to clear the air once and for all - but as he got closer, he heard voices and somehow that made him hesitate. He stopped around the corner from the staircase, knowing full well that he could be seen from downstairs if he took just another step. It was probably silly. But they didn’t get a lot of visitors here, Nicholas clearly hadn’t expected anyone, and at the very least… if nothing else, after seeing the expression on his face, maybe he didn’t really want to confront him after all. For the first time he felt like teasing Nicholas would be testing his luck. And right now, he didn’t sound like he was talking to a guest.   
It took some focus to hear what was going on downstairs, but the two men clearly weren’t trying to be quiet.   
Nicholas voice was calm, but it had an edge to it, it was what Arthur quietly referred to as his work voice. He said: “Are you sure you don’t want to take this inside?”  
The man that answered him didn’t sound familiar, but he spoke in a harried, rushed kind of way. “Cute. Where’s your friend?”  
“You mean Static Man?”  
“From what I hear, you don’t have a lot of other friends.”  
“He’s dead. Guess I’m out of friends.”  
There was a pause. “That’s impossible. I’d know if someone figured out how to take him down. God knows enough have tried.”  
“I figured out more impossible things. He doesn’t even make it into the top five.”  
“You?” Another pause, like the stranger was running it through his head. “Guess he got tired of waiting for you to figure out your end of the deal?”  
“You know an awful lot about me, given you won’t even tell me your name… but if you must know, that is not what happened. I figured it out, and I realised I wasn’t willing to go through with it. Taking him down was the only way to break the agreement without contracting a penalty.”  
“Oh, suddenly grew a conscience and weren’t willing to pay up, is that it?”  
“Nothing quite so nonsensical. The spell would have required me to tie my own power into maintaining his form. I could have watched everything I worked for go down the drain. … he was my friend. But sentimentality only takes you so far. At some point you have to be practical.”  
“Spoken like your fathers son.”  
“You knew him?”  
“Only by reputation.”  
“Yes… as did I. Now, if you are done playing twenty questions, are you going to use that?”  
Instead of an answer, there was some shuffling. Arthurs heart was beating in his throat and he couldn’t take it anymore, he stepped out of the corridor and peered over the bannister. Nicholas' back was turned to him, he couldn’t see much of the other man, since he was still standing outside on the doorstep. Of course. Nicholas had the house warded to the tenth. And somehow that stranger knew that something bad would happen if he stepped through that door.  
“I used to look up to you, you know.”  
“That seems like a shortcoming on your part. I’m not really interested in your sob story.”  
And then he twitched. Nicholas had been holding back so far, staring down the man in front of him- but Arthur should have known that he’d hear him. And when he leaned forward, the wood of the balustrade creaking softly, Nick almost turned to look at him. And then the stranger looked, too.   
“Is that the wife?”  
“Homophobia, how imaginative. Hey-”  
There was some yelling, and then a gun went off. Arthur hadn’t seen it before, it had to have been wedged in between them, but now Nick fell back and hit the ground hard, his cane was knocked from his hand and skittered away over the smooth tiled floor. Arthurs body went cold. “Nick!” He leapt at the stairs, stumbled back when the handrail next to him exploded into a cloud of splinters, caught himself and dashed downstairs too quickly to stop, even when the next bullet hit the wall next to his head and plunged him into a plume of dust. He dove to the floor at Nicks side and only then, after a second, realised that he was sitting right in front of the man who had just tried to murder him twice.  
Framed by the door, he saw the gunman with overwhelming clarity. He was short and stocky, with a mess of black hair and a bitter, chiseled face that could have been handsome under other circumstances. The dark jacket he wore reminded Arthur of something, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He was distracted by the gun that was pointed directly at his face. He hadn’t actually been threatened like this since the ritual, and now that he was, he completely froze. The world narrowed down to a pinpoint, that seemed more solid than anything else in the room. He had been struggling since he came back, sometimes he had barely felt material, but now he felt his body more than ever, the weight of it, the warmth of it, the blood rushing in his ears.  
And then the gun disappeared, and the stranger with it. For a moment, Arthurs brain couldn't comprehend what was happening. The man in front of him became undone like some sort of matrix shit, and for an almost comedical second he just assumed that that was what death was. The world around him would dematerialise and leave him in the nothingness, back in limbo.  
But when the stranger was gone, the world around him was still there, and Nick stirred weakly next to him. The whole thing had only taken a second. “Fuck. Nick.” Of the whole situation, this was what made him choke up. He whispered incomprehensible phrases under his breath and touched Nick's face. “Phone… phone. Ambulance.” He padded his own, empty pockets and then, after a second of hesitation, began searching Nick. Except something was strange about this, something was wrong. He had been shot. … Where was the blood? Nick's face was white and still, and his chest seemed to be barely moving. But that was all, there was no blood, not even on his shirt, let alone the cinematic puddle he would have expected.  
Hesitantly, and then more and more frantic, Arthur began searching Nicks body. He pushed up sweater, struggling against the weight of his limp body, and then gasped softly. “You’ve got to be kidding me- woah.” He yelled, although he would deny it on his deathbed, and backed away, as Nick started coughing. He clearly tried to sit up, but it took a few seconds before Arthur was ready to help him. “Dude! Why do you have a bulletproof vest!” Nicholas struggled to speak for a moment, then he reached for the vest he was wearing and, after a few weak attempts, opened the straps. It didn’t really seem to help him breath better, but it somewhat calmed him down. After a few moments, he slowly sunk back on his elbows. The colour hadn’t returned to his face yet, and it was terrifying to see him like that. “People didn’t stop trying to kill me because you stopped tearing them apart. Help me up.”  
“Are you sure that’s…”  
“Yes. … I need to sit down.”

It was quite the struggle to get Nicholas into an armchair in the living room, and even then he looked like he might just pass out again. “Isn’t a bulletproof vest supposed to stop you from being hurt?”  
“I was shot point blank and I am not dead. I will take it.”   
“Where do you even get something like this? Here-” Arthur had squirreled away to get a glass of water and then didn’t quite know what to do with it, so he placed it on the table. Nicholas was opening the other straps on his vest, he pulled a face and gently pushed Arthurs hands away, then he dropped it to the floor. In the second before the sweater covered it again, Arthur saw a huge, dark bruise beginning to form on Nicks chest. No wonder he struggled to breathe, with that much force, he probably bruised his lungs or at least his ribs as well.  
Arthur knew he was frantic, his head felt like it was filled with a thick mist and he had no idea what exactly he was supposed to do. It was like he was more in shock than Nicholas, and the fact that his help probably wasn’t wanted was thrumming painfully inside his skull.   
Eventually he came to a rest, kneeling next to the armchair and holding on to the arm rest, because he didn’t dare grab Nicholas after the last time. “Nick. Who the hell was that guy?”  
“I couldn’t say. Presumably not a fan.”  
“Be serious! He just… he was going to shoot me, and then he just… I don’t know.” He made a hectic gesture that was supposed to show the man dissolving into dust, but he wasn’t sure he quite got it across. Nicholas only stared at him. Then he said, very slowly, with a voice that was much thinner than his usual soft, steady tone: “That wouldn’t have happened, if you had done as I said and stayed back. Only Morgan knows that you are alive… and it would be best for everyone if it stayed that way. There is only so much I can do to protect you.”  
That sick feeling that wasn’t quite anger and wasn’t quite guilt returned and made him lash out. “What do you care, Nick?”  
But this time, he hit solid stone. “Of course I care. That is the problem. Anyways, you were leaving and I need to browse the library for a way to find this guy, before he realises that I am harder to kill than he thought.”  
“Dude, look at yourself. You need rest. And I’m going to help you.”  
“I don’t need your help.”  
“Obviously you don’t need my help, you’re Nicholas Waters, you’re prepared for people shooting at you in your own house. Spare me. Drink your water, I’m on research duty today.” Nick looked like he had a lot to say about that, but not enough air to say it, because he stared at him angrily, but stayed quiet as he left. 

When he came back, Nick looked thoroughly uncomfortable in his chair and Arthur wasn’t sure if what he felt was glee or horror at that. Honestly, the moment he came back to this house, his feelings were all over the place again. At least Nicholas didn’t struggle against his help anymore. “Did you find anything?”  
“Maybe. Remember this?” He presented an old notebook page to Nicholas, it was a little worn out and very familiar. That was probably why it took Nick only a moment to scan. He huffed a laugh and immediately looked like he regretted it. “That brings me back. But it won’t be of much use. The man is hardly my worst enemy.”  
“No?- Then who the hell is?”  
“Well… I am… not exactly sure. We may have killed all of them.”  
“Doesn’t matter. Let’s do it.”  
Nick looked at him like he doubted his intellect. “We can’t. The ritual is designed to show us to our primary foe. And I just said-”  
“Well, that sucker is my worst enemy.”  
“You- what did he do to you? You don’t even know who we are dealing with, that’s the whole point.”  
“Are you kidding me? He shot you, Nick. He shot you, he tried to kill you. It was just lucky that he didn’t aim for your face. Who else would this stupid ritual point me to?”  
Nicholas did not react the way he expected. He got very quiet and awkwardly turned his head. Finally he got up, clearly struggling. “Wonderful. Just… wonderful. Let’s do it then.” His voice sounded grave. He let Arthur hel, but didn’t look at him.   
“Nick… dude, wait. You’re in no state to do this and I can’t… I don’t want it to be like this. I don’t think I even know what we’re fighting over. Can we just talk, before we tell each other horrible things for magic reasons?”  
And, as opposed to his genuine expectations, Nick actually stopped. His hands flexed, a nervous gesture he hadn’t seen on him a lot, and he pressed his palms together to stop. “We’re not fighting. We just don’t have the relationship I thought we had. And it’s… not getting better. I will get the bull’s head. You do the prep.”  
“You’re barely on your feet, you really shouldn’t drive.”  
“I won’t drive myself, Arthur. And I need some fresh air.”  
For a second Arthur pulled away, he was willing to say anything to avoid any more conflict, but then he followed Nicholas instead. “No. What if he’s still out there? The… the guy. Are you done making reasonable decisions already?”  
And that, finally, made Nicholas falter. He looked at him with a deep frown and finally said: “He saw you, too.”  
“But I don’t think he was looking for me. And I wasn’t just shot. And anyways… I’ll be in public the whole time. I just really think it should be me.”  
It was obvious that Nick was struggling with the decision, but finally he conceded. “... Fine. Yes. You’re right. I will prepare the rest. But be careful.”  
“Sure, my… sure.”

They met back in the foyer where Nicholas had shaped out the salt circles, Arthur plopped down the bull’s head in one of them. Nick was already standing in his spot, looking timid, but that part didn’t concern him. It reminded him of the way he had been when they met, he had always looked like he would rather be somewhere else. But at the end of the day… he took what he thought he needed without hesitation. Nick backing out was never an option. Arthur wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure what, so he took his place.   
Finally, Nick turned to speak. The notebook was clasped in his hand, his finger holding it open on the page of the ritual, as though he actually needed it.   
“So, you remember how it works?”  
“Sure, dude, I just read it.”  
“We move through the circles, disclosing secrets to each other. You start.”  
“I know, Nick, I-”  
“A damaging secret that someone has entrusted to you.”  
Arthur didn’t immediately reply. This felt wrong, rushed, unceremonial. They shouldn’t be doing this, when the air between them wasn’t clear. What he wanted, more than to solve the issue of this assassin, was to set things right with Nicholas. But he didn’t even know where to start.  
He thought back to the first time they did this, in many ways, things had been so much simpler. It had really felt like Nick was some sort of poorly dressed, underfed white knight, some deus machina to save him from his own bad decisions.  
And wasn’t he? He had never disappointed him, not really, he had done everything he had promised and far more. But his feelings towards him had become so conflated and complicated…  
Arthur sighed. “My parents made Allison break up with her boyfriend, they didn’t… like him or something, but she’s actually still seeing him. If they’d know they’d, I don’t know, disown her or something. At least throw her out of the house. You think that will do?”  
After a moment Nick nodded, but didn’t exactly reply, and Arthur took a step across the salt line, careful not to touch it.   
“Grimaldi didn’t just disappear for no reason, Annabelle got him killed during a ritual they performed together. Apparently it was an accident, but she thought no one would believe her… so she kept it to herself.”  
“She told you that? Why?”  
“We had… something of a heart to heart. I assume she was trying to gain my sympathy.”   
“Oh yeah, I bet that worked out great.”  
“It was a long time ago.” Nick's voice was starting to wear thinner, it was clear that he still wasn’t in form, his breathing was laboured, but asking him to postpone the ritual probably wouldn’t fly very well. Although this was actually the last thing he wanted to do, he wasn’t ready for that conflict, either. Nick stared at him. He had to say something. And he knew what it was. Since Nick didn’t seem up for it, Arthur said: “A secret that will make the other think less of you, right? I may have just the thing… Assuming I haven't bottomed out just yet.”  
“Arthur…”  
“Fine. Fine, I… so I was at that party. And Anya- my friend? She told me… I used to know these people. Ritualists, although we didn’t use that term because it sounds stale as hell. No offense.” He was talking around the topic and he knew it. “They’re both… they’re both gone. Matt disappeared a couple of years after I did and… Georgie…” This was hard. He had known it would be, but he hadn’t expected his voice to skip like this. “We attempted a ritual a… long time ago and it went to shit. And I tried to protect her, I thought I’d made it alright, but… she ended up running her car into a wall, Nick. And I know it was because of what happened, she couldn’t deal with it, she wasn’t ready. I did this. They think she just- how do you explain that to people?”  
“You don’t. I’m so sorry, Arthur. That's what happened? That is why you went of the rails like that?”  
“Well… yes. So you get it, right? That it wasn’t about you?”  
“That is not the point. I understand how you feel but I… let’s not do this now. The point is… it wasn’t your fault. And I know that’s hard to hear, I know it would be easier to blame yourself but… I can’t. I don’t think less of you for something you may or may not have cause, years ago.”  
Arthurs reply was so immediate that it all but cut him off. “I wasn’t going to tell you. I was never, ever going to tell you and it’s only because of my ego. If I could take it back right now, I would.”  
Nicholas pulled a pained face. “Fine. Step.”  
He did. Nick brazed himself, but didn’t hesitate. “I killed Kristos.”  
“Yeah, I… figured, dude.”  
“No. I told Kristos I would send him home, secretly altered the ritual, and then I killed him.”  
“But… why? He trusted you. He would have told you what you needed to know.”  
“I needed more than just knowledge, Arthur. I had been scrambling for power for so long at that point, just like everyone else. But… but betraying someone who put their fate so entirely in your hands, sacrificing a god… it was the first ritual I ever wrote myself and the power… is like nothing you could imagine. It’s how I did impossible things. It’s the only reason you’re here now… But I never asked you about it, and you wouldn't have agreed to it. I violated your trust, too. I-”  
“Alright. … alright. Go on. And careful with the salt lines.”  
“... I suppose I deserved that.”   
“Yeah. Suppose. … this is… Nick. You need to understand.”  
“Focus on the ritual Arthur. Please.”  
“I am. But I need to know we’ll be good after this.”  
“I… I can’t promise that, I’m sorry.”  
“Lie then. You can do that, right?”  
“Maybe. … Yes.”  
“Just. Say it. I won’t hold you to it, but I need you to tell me that it’s going to be fine.”  
There was a pause, before Nick spoke, and he hated how brief it was and he hated how genuine Nicholas sounded. “Of course we are going to be alright, Arthur. There’s nothing in the world that I want more, and you know that means I’ll make it happen.”  
He felt sick to his stomach and he hated himself for how much Nick's lies helped him focus. “I wouldn’t have hit you if I was sober… but I also would have hit you if you’d been just anyone. And...”  
He couldn’t say that. He just couldn’t. But this wouldn’t do.  
“Arthur, I can’t… finish that sentence for you, the ritual-”  
“It felt good. Alright? I wanted to do it and I did it and it felt good. Like… like I had control over my life for the first time in a long time. And I know you don’t deserve it, but that’s the point! I just can’t do what you expect of me and I’m so tired, Nick, because… because I don’t even get to be mad at you, not after everything you did for me. I don’t have anything to be mad about and it drives me crazy, because… I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I thought it would be over when our deal ended, but at the end of the day I’m still indebted to you, at the end of the day I always will be yours. I shouldn’t have hurt you, obviously I would take it back if I could but I. I don’t know how to do this and sometimes… that makes me hate you.”  
The silence after his words droned in his ears. He hadn’t meant to say so much, he had intended to contain the damage as best he could, but then it just all came out at once. “I… I assumed something like that”, Nicholas finally said and his voice was stale and hollow in a way Arthur had never heard before. He didn’t have to ask and just, very slowly, stepped into the next circle. Suddenly, Nicholas spoke very quickly. “I will always be yours just the same, Arthur. But… the reason why I didn’t answer your question earlier, is that… in truth, I don’t think I can stand having you around anymore. If you really feel like you still owe me… I need you to leave me alone. That’s all I want from you. I wasn’t going to tell you. I was going to… let you stay. But that’s the truth.”  
Arthur nodded, numbly. None of this felt real. He had been in liminal spaces more believable than this. “I need to get to the bottom of this first. I need to know you’re safe.”  
Nicholas hesitated, “Fine”, then he stepped into the next circle and very distinctly refused to look at him, while the cow’s head began to groan and huff and spit out an address. Nick wrote it down. And that was it. This was their last tour. Arthur couldn’t remember feeling heartbroken before, not like this, and there was nothing, nothing he could do.


	10. Chapter 10

“It’s a gay bar.”  
“It’s… a bar.”  
“That gay people frequent. That’s a gay bar. I can’t believe I have to explain that to you.”  
“You really don’t. … and yet.”  
“Are you sure it wasn’t an ex or something?”  
“Am I sure the man who just showed up at my house and shot me wasn’t someone I used to be in a relationship with? Yes, Arthur. I’m sure.”  
"Maybe I should wait out here. I'd just draw attention to us." Nicholas looked over to Arthur, only for a moment before he walked ahead leaning on his cane more heavily than usually. "What do you mean?"  
"I mean I'll stick out." They stopped outside the door and this time Nick eyed him more thoroughly, looking him up and down and fixed his hair. He shrugged and opened the door to the bar. "You'll be fine."  
"What? What is that supposed to mean? Nicholas?" Arthur struggled with himself for a moment, then he followed him inside. "Nick, what does that mean?"

The inside of the pub was dimly lit and somewhat crowded, but underneath the cigarette smoke, the small-ish room seemed clean at least. Although he had avoided looking at him all evening, Nick stayed close to him when they were inside. Arthur heard his laboured breathing and it made his own chest feel constricted. “Do you see him?”  
Nick slowly shook his head. “He’s not here. That doesn’t make any sense. Maybe he just wasn’t your primary foe after all. Do you have any ex- boyfriends you forgot to mention?”   
“Oh, ha-ha. … See those doors? He must be here somewhere. I check the backroom, you check the bathroom.”  
“I don’t think you’re supposed to be back there…”  
“Yeah. So then I can get out of dodge a lot faster than you can. Just… don’t get shot again, alright?”  
Nicholas didn’t validate that with an answer.  
They split up. Except, when Nicholas returned from the bathroom, he saw someone headed straight for the doors Arthur disappeared behind, a man built like a brick wall was zigzagging through in between the tables. Nick didn’t hesitate, but he did regret what he was going to do before he gripped his cane and stepped into his path with manic certainty. They collided with so much momentum that he almost passed out for a moment - he had forgotten exactly how banged up he was. Once again, his only thought had been Arthur.  
His weak leg gave in easily and he fell against an empty table behind him. He would have tumbled to the floor with it, if someone hadn’t gripped him by the arm and held him while he was struggling for air, trying to stabilise himself. He clung to the man who was apologising profusely and tried to get over the cramping pain in his chest. Oh, for god's sake. He had worn a damn vest! A vaguely familiar scent hit him when his head cleared.   
He looked up at the man through his lashes, half propped up by him - apparently effortlessly - and half clinging to the table. “No, it was my fault, really. I apologise. Would you mind-” He reached out for the cane that had been knocked out of his grip, and the stranger was quick to comply and pick it up for him.   
“I’m not the one who almost ended up on the floor. At the very least tell me that isn’t a war injury or something.”  
Despite how absolutely and entirely miserable he felt, Nick couldn’t help but huff a laugh at that. “Hardly.”  
“Are you okay to stand?”   
“Yes. Yes, I…” Their eyes met and he took a moment to get his bearings. He didn’t usually note people anymore, he had other things on his mind but this one was… handsome. Maybe he only noticed because for once, he was actually on eye level with someone. That was where the similarities ended though, the man was twice as wide as him, with very blonde, very neat hair, a little gap between his front teeth that showed when he smiled and a very angular face. He looked at him with growing amazement, the longer the pause became. “... I should be fine. Thank you. I’m… My name is Nick.”  
“Still. Let me help you. You should sit. Call me Warren.”  
Warren picked up the chair that Nick had knocked over and pulled it out for him. “Please.”  
Nick sat, feeling thankful for the chance. He had been feeling rather unstable. Warren leaned his cane haphazardly against the table and Nick took it and placed it against the wall instead, with a smirk. Warren smiled back, looking embarrassed. “Are you sure you’re not hurt? You took quite the tumble. Anything you need?”  
Time. What they needed was time. “You could buy me a drink.”  
Warren's smile didn’t fade, but it changed into something else, something more fragile that Nick didn’t like to see. “Right away.”  
When he was gone, Nick switched seats so he could keep an eye on the door to the backrooms. Why was Arthur taking so long? Had he run into trouble? He checked his phone. Nothing.  
Warren was back astonishingly fast and placed two beers in front of them. The smell alone made Nick realise that he hadn’t eaten anything all day. He was getting nauseous. “Thank you.” He gave him a short, flickering smile and started picking at his coaster very deliberately. “So… Warren. What do you do?”  
“Fire and rescue.” Nick watched him close both hands around his glass, but not lift it and stared amused. “What?”  
“Nothing, just… men in uniform.”  
Warren's laughter was surprisingly gentle for a man his size.”I don’t think that applies to the fire department.”  
“No, it definitely applies.”  
They both chuckled breathlessly, and Nick cast a short glance at the door. Still nothing. “What about you, Nick? What do you do?”  
“I teach French History, actually.” The lie felt strange and outlandish and reminded him how long ago that part of his life had ended.   
“Really? I didn’t know teaching was so dangerous.”  
At his questioning face, Warren pointed at Nick's face, then his leg. Nick cast his eyes down, only to glance back up at him surreptitiously. “What can I say, it’s a competitive field. Are you on call?”  
“Mh?”  
After a little gesture, Warren looked at his beer. Now he seemed downright awkward. “I… don’t actually drink, I just didn’t want to bring it up.”  
Nick allowed for a little pause before he said “Me either.”  
Warren starred, and this time they both laughed genuinely. He shook his head, disbelieving. “Dear god. I’m two years sober. Are you-”  
“No… no. I just don’t like losing control.”  
“I can imagine.”  
“What do you mean?”   
“Just… I just mean… some people prefer to keep a clear head, that's all.”  
“I see.”   
This time the pause was different, colder somehow, and Nick was well aware that his face was getting too analytical so he bit his lip when their eyes met again. “You still bought the drink though.” Arthur still wasn’t back. Nick's mind was racing underneath the pleasantries and he was sure it was starting to show. He had immediately suspected that something was off, but now things were starting to take shape.  
"So, Nick… you're here alone?"  
"I'm not alone right now." Nick's fingers brushed Warren's arm vaguely. "What about you?"  
"I'm actually helping out, they're a man short behind the bar, but… I still have some time. Guess I'm lucky I ran into you when I did."  
"Albeit perhaps a bit too literal."  
That was it. The look Warren shot him just then, ran through him like ice water. Suddenly he knew what that smell had been. It was the sweet scent of vervain, like one would use for a whole number of wards.  
“I should go.” And then everything happened really fast. He went to get up, but Warren grabbed his arm and made him sit back down painfully hard.  
“Wait. You’re Nicholas Waters.”  
Nick snarled and said through gritted teeth: “So what, were you going to talk me to death this time?”  
“No, I- what?”  
“Hey darling, that guy bothering you?”   
Nick's body was still tightly strung like he expected Warren to pull him over the table if he let go, and he didn’t break eye contact, but something in his face relaxed, when he heard Arthur's voice right next to him. He hadn’t even seen him leave the back room.   
“That is to be determined”, he said coldly.  
“Dude, you may wanna let go of him. I’ve seen him take down things much bigger than you, with that face on.”  
“So he is as powerful as they say?”  
Arthur crossed his arms in front of his chest and glanced at the man across the table with so much disdain, that it made Nicholas’ heart flutter a little. He had never seen him like this. Of course, Arthur had never needed to be this protective, in the past, whenever they had encountered opposition, his presence had been deterrent enough.  
“Most powerful thing I’ve seen. Let go.”  
Warren did, and despite the tension, Nick couldn’t help but huff a little laugh. “That seems like an exaggeration. You worked with Melody Pendrass.”  
“Dude. She did one badass stunt, and now her power's barely enough to keep her cooped up in that interdimensional funhouse with the wife. You'd never resign to us being stuck in a place like that."  
"You really believe that."   
For a moment, it was easy to forget what happened. No one had ever believed in him like that, and it was all he wanted to go home, with that feeling curled up neatly in his stomach. Maybe he could teach Arthur how to bake, finally. But this feeling was a trap, and he needed to remember that.  
While he had stared up to him, Arthur had never stopped glancing at the man in front of them.   
“Apparently… he wants to talk. What do you think?”  
Arthur hesitated and looked at him, Nick could tell that he was surprised to be asked and tried to fathom what answer he expected. “Let’s take him home then. Talk in the library.”

The way home was awkward. For a long time they sat in the cab quietly, until finally Arthur moved to look up. “So… that was weird. He wasn’t there. I swear he didn’t have anywhere to hide.”  
“I believe you. … Perhaps he left before we even arrived.”  
“Why did you let me do it?”  
Nicholas gazed at him, barely turning his head. “What do you mean?”, he asked, not unfriendly.  
“I mean. Why did you agree to take him home? Do you really think it’s a good idea to let him know where you live?”  
“It’s not a secret. Whoever shot me clearly already knows and what is more- if he knew about the security measures and meant us ill, he would never have come. If he doesn't know… we will see what happens, won’t we.”  
“I suppose… it just feels weird, inviting a stranger to our home.”  
Nick smiled a flickering little thing of a smile at those words, but it disappeared soon. Arthur wasn’t sure what to make of it.  
“It was a good plan. You are better than you give yourself credit for… always have been.”  
Well, what the hell was he supposed to say to that, when Nicholas had made it very clear that he still wasn’t good enough? That there was something fundamentally wrong with him that they couldn’t fix? It was so easy to be around Nicholas, even though his chest felt like it was going to cave in and leave only dust. Maybe he was just having a heart attack, he did eat a lot of fried chicken…  
“Are you sure you got this?” Arthur had been staring at his hands, now his eyes returned to Nicholas. “Sure. I need to get to the bottom of this, I… if I move out I’ll need to know you’re safe first, man.”


	11. Chapter 11

They stopped outside the house and saw Warren's subaru pull up behind them. Arthur gazed over at him while he waited for Nick to open the door and deactivate the security system. “That guy is huge.”  
“He’s a fireman.”  
“Oh, so you’ve exchanged life stories already?”  
Nick gave him a look he couldn’t quite place and waited for Warren. The man made it into the house alright. Arthur wasn’t actually sure what would happen to an enemy who tried to enter the house, but he knew that he’d kind of wanted to see it happen to this one. No way he had good intentions. 

Warren looked around the house with a little frown, like he was trying to figure something out. “Nice place”, he finally said. “Bad energy.”   
Nick didn’t look at him, but Arthur could still tell that he didn't take anything more from that statement than he had. He gestured down the hall. “This way.”  
They walked ahead, and Arthur hung back to keep an eye on the guy. None of this sat right with him. Their primary foe was supposed to be right there, and this was what they brought home? On the other hand, he managed to get into the house without even hesitating. Was there a way he could have tricked the ward? Probably… maybe? It was hard to imagine, after both Nicholas and his late father had let their paranoia run wild on the place. Sometimes the simultaneous effects they had put on the place seemed almost palpable. Were those the bad energies? Hah.  
“We will talk in the library”, Nick said and then paused. It sounded like dramatic effect, but Arrthur was pretty sure he was just trying to keep his sentences short so it didn’t show that he still struggled to breathe. “You will not be able to tell untruths.”  
Although he couldn't see his face, the way Warren turned his head looked surprised. “Impressive. Of course I expected no less.”  
The pandering didn’t seem to get him brownie points with Nicholas. His face was dark and apathetic. He was in pain.   
When he didn’t get a reply, Warren continued. “You’re not worried I might make you say something you rather wouldn’t let on?”  
“No.”  
It was hard not to laugh at Nick's briefness. Still, Arthur elaborated as they entered. “Nick has gotten crazy good at dodging questions. Don’t know how he does it, it’s hard in here. But you’ll see.”  
Nick's look made him shut up. After a pause he said: “The effect compels you to answer. You just need to know that you have a reason not to. You need to know what you want. … All comes down to willpower in this business.”   
They sat down around a table further in the back of a room that Arthur had never touched before. When they were in here together, which was rare, they just shared the desk. It was tricky because Nicholas tended to sprawl his books and notes out all over the table, but worth it. All the quiet time around Nick had always been worth it. Those moments held his world together. Warren very obviously tried to sneak looks at the books and tapes they were surrounded with.  
“What did you want to speak to me about?”, Nick asked, suddenly breaking the pause, and Warren's head snapped around to him. “My brother. He disappeared. He attempted one of your fathers rituals and then he was just… gone. I heard you are the only person who ever managed to finish the ritual. And then I heard a lot of other stuff about you. So I thought… if anyone can help me, it’s you. I- I’m going to pay you, of course. It’s about the-”  
“I know the ritual you mean. It’s a trap. In the best case scenario, he is stuck in limbo. More likely he is dead.”  
“You can’t know that.”  
“Yes, I can. The ritual was designed as a trap by my late father.. There is no pot of gold at the end. There is nothing.”  
Warren leaned back in his chair with a shudder that Arthur found strangely compelling. For the first time since Arthur had first seen him, he stopped glancing at Nicholas. “... there must be something you can do. Please. I have no one else to turn to.”  
Nicholas didn’t react for a long time, then he looked at Arthur. After a few moments he got restless, unable to interpret that look. Arthur pointed at himself. Him? Nicholas wanted him to decide? Nick's face gave away nothing. “Well… I guess we could try to help. What was he up to before he disappeared? It’s a pretty long fucking ritual, what was he doing?”  
“He was stuck. … He… said he might talk to Payphone. I think that’s what happened.”  
Arthur scoffed and life returned to Nick's face. “You don’t need to worry about that. Payphone has been gone for years.”  
Suddenly, Warren looked almost suspicious. “Do you guys really not know? Payphone is back.”

“What the hell, Nick.” They left Warren in the library, even though Nick seemed uncomfortable with that. Arthur was trying to keep his voice down as they spoke in the corridor. “What the hell. He must be lying. We killed it.”  
“Arthur… he is not lying.”  
“Then he is wrong.”  
Nick paused and frowned a little.He still really just looked like he needed to sit down.  
“... Possibly. That’s what we have to find out. … what I have to find out.”  
“Wait.. what do you mean? What are you planning?”  
“The way I see it, there are not a lot of people with extensive knowledge about payphone. … but there does seem to be one person.”  
“What are you- oh. Well, we can’t just waltz into the cult headquarters. And… I don’t have his phone number anymore. All of that went to shit.”  
“I know. But there is one more thing we know about him. There is one way in.”  
“... Daniel Powell. But we don’t know where he is.”  
“Someone knows. No matter what he said, after all that, you don’t just return to a normal life like nothing happened. Someone in the community knows something. I will have Morgan stretch out her feelers, see what bites.”  
“That’s not a very good analogy, dude.”  
“Be that as it may…” This time the break was longer. Nick looked directly at him. “... You don’t need to be here for that. And I don’t think you should be, either.”  
It was as though that hole in the floor had opened up again. “Nick, for god's sake. We said I’ll stay here until we figure this out.”  
“You know very well that this wasn't what we had in mind. We don’t even have a lead anymore, not really. It will take time for someone to get back to me and I can’t have you here, I-” Nick pressed his knuckles to his lips like he was physically trying to keep his emotions in, it was not a gesture Arthur had seen on him before. It left him feeling even more helpless. “Please, Nick. Please. There has to be a way to talk this through. It’s not supposed to be like this, I would do- I… please don’t do this.”  
Nick turned his face, his shoulders tense and then, after a few seconds, very suddenly walked off, back into the library, and ripped the door open. “Have you been having a look around?”  
Warren was still sitting at the table, staring at him. “Yes. I- yeah.”  
“Find anything interesting?”  
“Nothing I could make heads or tails off. Hey, can you-”  
“Leave your number. I will do what I can to get to the bottom of this. But keep in mind that there’s a good chance that he is gone.”  
“I- I understand.” Warren got out of the chair and struggled a little to get around it, this man was just massive. It only made Arthur feel more sick. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”  
Nick nodded vaguely. “... Arthur will show you out. He was just about to go, anyways.”


	12. Chapter 12

It was astonishing how fast two weeks passed when he barely left his room. As soon as he had stepped out of Nick's house, he had felt the weight of the world on him. There was nothing left he could do, he had really lost Nick for good, when he needed him so badly to be a part of his life. All plans he had made since coming back - every iteration of his life he had imagined even before that had been centered around him, there was no space in his head for a world without him.   
He knew people were starting to get worried, but he wasn't sure what exactly he should do about that. He should have gotten started on doing… something, ages ago, but what? Where the hell would he take his life when he didn’t have Nick as his true north, as an anchor point? The idea that his whole life revolved around NIck used to make him uncomfortable, but now he craved it, he craved waking up in his arms, feeling that gaze across the breakfast table, being encompassed by his scent, and the little sounds of his work, and his… his love. Just that. Unconditional love that he hadn’t recognised when he had it, because it was too new and too foreign. But at every step of the way he had always been sure that Nick would still be there, would forgive him, would make things right… His brain didn’t seem to be working when he couldn't mirror his mind against Nicks. 

Arthur was on the bed when the knock on the door came, staring at the ceiling. He had gotten up some time earlier to get some lunch, hung around for a while, but nothing really piqued his interest and he ended up returning to his bed soon.   
Now he sat up, but before he had decided if he wanted to answer the door already opened.   
“Anya? Dude, what the hell-”  
“God, it’s dark in here.”  
She turned the light on and Arthur blinked aggressively, then she walked in, pulled back the curtains and even opened a window. “What are you doing? And what are you doing in here? And why- I could have been naked!”  
“Yeah, don’t remind me, that memory will haunt me forever.”  
Arthur frowned and tried to fix his hair, but there really wasn't much he could do.  
“You can't just march in here… you could have at least called.”  
“Would you have picked up?”  
“No. But that's not the point!  
Arthur didn’t move from the bed, but he crossed his legs and pulled his hands into the arms of his hoodie, because there was cold air coming in through the window. Anya pulled a chair over and sat down, her arms crossed over the backrest. She was pretty, always neat, her makeup on point, her nails polished bright red and her braids framing her face immaculately. It only made him feel more removed. When he didn’t say anything, she seemed to get impatient. “So?”  
“What?”  
“What’s wrong? You’re all cooped up here. I thought you disappeared again.”  
“Is that why you’re here?”  
“I’m here because when we didn’t hear from you after what happened, we drew straws and I lost.”  
“Charming.”  
“Are you gonna make me ask again?”  
“It’s just not any of your business.”   
“Obviously it’s none of my business, but clearly you’re not dealing very well on your own.”  
“... it’s Nicholas.”  
“The guy who picked you up from the party?”  
Arthur sunk into his hoodie until only his eyes were visible. “How did you know?”  
“... Doesn’t matter. So he’s pissed?”  
“Yes.”  
“Can’t really blame him.”  
“I don’t. We’ve just never not talked for this long and I… didn’t think it would happen.”   
“Mh.” After a moment, Anya got off her chair and walked over to join him on the bed. He looked at her for a moment, and then leaned his head against the wall.  
“And he’s right, that’s the worst part. Of course he’s mad, I’d be mad, too. It just… happened so fast.”  
He winced a little when she moved to lean against his shoulders, but relaxed after a moment. “Did you tell him that?”  
“I mean… I tried. Don’t think he was listening. He was pretty upset.”  
He moved his head and caught Anya's look. “Then tell him now.”  
“I told you. He doesn’t want to talk to me.”  
“Text him then.”  
Arthur blinked a few times. “What?”  
“Text him. Tell him how you feel, dumbass. I know he has a phone..”  
“I wouldn’t even know what to write... “  
“Thats what Im here for.”  
“I thought you drew straws. … I don’t think that’s a very good idea. I need to respect his…”  
He trailed off when he saw Anya's eyes wander over to the phone on his bedside table. They both lunged at it at the same time, but Anya managed to grab it and hold it just out of his reach, when he was already flat on top of her.   
“Get off me, you weigh like a ton! What did they feed you in that cult?”  
Arthur did not, in fact, get off her, but shifted his weight so she could breathe at least. “What are you going to write?”  
“How about ‘Hi, I miss you, please marry me.’” Anya huffed a laugh at his outrage and unlocked his phone at the first try. He was surprised she still remembered his birthday.  
“Alright, alright, how about… Hi, I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.”  
Arthur groaned and rolled off her, dramatically draping an arm across his eyes. “He’s never even going to respond.”  
“He says he’s fine.”  
“Huh?” Arthur moved enough to barely peer past his arm. Anya shrugged and turned the phone display towards him. “Ah, wait… there’s more. Wow, way more. Says he’s working, yadda yadda, boring… he says- check this out, he says he’s trying to work, but the house is too quiet.”  
“Wait what did you just skip-”  
“Far as I can see, he’s describing the last week in minute detail, I won’t even touch that part, but Arthur. The house is too quiet.”  
“So? It’s a big place. He’s all alone.”  
“He misses you.”  
“He didn’t… say that.” Arthur made a choked little noise and pulled the pillow over his face. He wanted to scream. They should have never texted Nick. What was this nonsense?  
Anya clearly decided to ignore his antics. “I asked him what he was working on, he says uh… Annabelle is going to call tomorrow- Do we know who Annabelle is?”  
Arthur gave a vaguely affirmative grunt.   
“Well, apparently she is going to call tomorrow and he is finishing up the commission. Should I- wait, he’s typing.”  
Arthur was very quiet.   
“He says- dude, he says he was worried because he didn’t hear from you.”  
Arthur sat up so suddenly that it made her recoil a bit, “wait what?”  
She sat up and now, suddenly, grinned at him. He immediately lost a lot of his spunk. “.. what?”  
“You got it bad. It’s cute.”  
Arthur opened his mouth to shoot back, then he closed it again and hugged the pillow to his chest. “Maybe I do. What about it?”  
“Well, for one. Weird way to show your cards, bit aggressive.”  
“Oh ha-ha.”  
“And… I didn’t know that was your type.”  
“Me either. I mean it’s not. I mean… I don’t know. I don’t know what it is, it’s… Nick, dude. It’s Nick. Not that it matters now.”  
With a sigh, Anya rolled her head back. “Stop being so whiny, Arthur. Seriously. “  
“Excuse me?”  
“He misses you… he was waiting to hear from you… he wants you so bad.”  
“Oh, shut up.” Arthur buried his face in his hands and groaned. “It’s not like that.”  
“It’s obviously exactly like that.”  
“It’s… it’s not that easy, okay. I can’t just fucking…. I can’t just hook up with him like I would with someone else. He’s… he means a lot to me, man. I can’t risk anything.”  
“You remember we hooked up, right?”  
“Well, yeah, but that’s different. He wouldn’t- I don’t think he knows how to forgive me for messing up. And if, by some fucking miracle, we can work this out? No way I could disappoint him again. You should have seen him.”  
“I did. Remember?”  
“Yeah… I suppose. The point is, I barely knew why he kept me around in the first place, I guess I was always on really thin ice. He doesn’t need me, you know. He’s used to being alone, he doesn’t need me around for company, I wasn’t contributing as much as I should have in the first place and- I… oh god. Look, I knew he liked me, of course I knew, I’m not blind. I just didn’t know what to do with that. I guess I thought I had all the time in the world… what are you typing?”  
Anya shrugged and didn’t bother to look up. “What you just said.”  
“Dude-” Arthur grabbed the phone from her and she raised her hands in defense, but he was only staring at the display. “You… really sent that. I can’t- Anya, I can’t unsend that.”   
He dropped the phone and didn’t even look angry. Maybe scared. “Fuck. What did you do that for?”  
“Fun.” The phone announced a new text message and Arthur grabbed it immediately, then dropped it again. Anya took it with a sigh. Her eyebrows shot up.  
“What? What the hell is he-”   
“He asked who’s typing.”  
“Who’s… he knows it’s not me. Of course he does, oh my god.”  
Anya frowned, clearly annoyed, while she replied. In the ensuing silence, Arthur felt like he was melting into the mattress.  
“He wants me to ask you for… advice.”  
“On how to make the biggest possible fool of himself?”  
“Uh… it’s about Annabelle agan.”  
“What did she do?”  
“He says… he is having qualms about the morality of the commission… and he considers not handing it over. He is sure she will not go through with it, but he has been wrong before. He wants your opinion. Hey, what does he do for work again?”  
Arthur didn’t reply. He was rubbing his face and then got up from the bed to walk around a little. “Shit”, he finally said. Finally he took a deep breath and just shrugged it off. “Tell him to send it. Of course. I trust him and… it’s the safest option.”  
“I don’t think I like how stressed out you look over this. What’s going on?”  
“Please, just… just send it. I think you know you don’t actually want an answer.”  
Anya lowered the phone and looked at him, suddenly very seriously. “It’s that again.”  
“Yeah. Always that.”  
“What got two people killed already.”  
Arthur huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Yeah. Let’s go with that. So just… let it go. I don’t want you involved with this and you don’t need to be, as long as you stop asking.”  
Although she looked like she had more to say, Anya stayed quiet. Suddenly she looked gray. “Fine. But are you sure it’s not a good thing you’re away from him, if that’s what he’s involved with? Sounds to me like he’s dangerous.”  
“What? No, come on. Nick is harmless. I mean… he’s harmless to me. He protected me. … He is exactly who I need to be involved with. I promise.”  
Anya looked at him for a long time and finally shrugged. “Alright. Fine. But Arthur… you need to take care of yourself. I can’t have you dicking around like you used to.”  
“I promise. I… I promise. I don’t want to be that person.” And a part of him had to wonder what exactly he wanted to be.


	13. Chapter 13

“Anya. I made a mistake.”  
“What the fuck, Arthur?” Anya was yelling, her side of the call was uncomfortably loud, it sounded like she was at a party, or at least in a crowd. Arthur checked his watch. Barely nine in the evening… huh. He had been pacing around his room all day, trying to justify his own decision, trying not to imagine what Nicholas would do with his input. Trying not to imagine him dealing with the fallout of a decision like that all by himself. But there was no point, there was no point in reminding himself that Nicholas had dealt with these things by himself all his life. The point was: He shouldn't have to. The point was: No matter what he said, he was his responsibility now, at the very least he was his friend, he was his confidant, and he didn't deserve to be in this all alone.   
“I need your help, please. Can I come pick you up? I need to check on Nicholas…”  
“And what the hell do you need me for?”  
Someone said something on Anya's end of the call, but she didn’t reply to them.  
“I… kind of dont have a driver's license right now… and he lives all the way out there.”  
“You can’t be serious. Take a cab!”  
“I… can’t.”  
“Arthur.”  
“Look, I can’t go alone! Not after what you told him. If you’re not there it’s gonna be awkward, we’ll, like…”  
“Talk? You’ll talk! Call a cab, you shithead.” And then she hung up, just like that, leaving him to… call a cab. This was not how he had imagined the whole thing going.


	14. Chapter 14

He was feeling physically sick. Arthur got out of the cab and watched it drive off, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. So this was it then, huh? He was already nearly at the door, when something caught his attention. It took him a moment to register exactly what it was. … The car. It was a car he had definitely seen before,  
… No way in hell. What was that guy doing here? Of course, it could be a coincidence, there had to be more than one grey subaru in New York… but it was parked right outside the house! Did Nicholas get any new information? Were they performing a ritual right now? That was his job! But if they were in the middle of a ritual, he couldn’t exactly just ring the door. After a moment of consideration, Arthur did what seemed like an excellent decision at the time, turned away from the front door and walked down the gap between their house and the next. Their house… mh. Most of the windows were dark, Nicholas was big on energy conservation, but he already saw the warm glow emanating from the living room windows at the back of the house. He should have turned around then. As a rule, they did not perform rituals in the living room. Some of the smells just didn’t come out of the furniture, one time they had to refurbish the whole room.   
For about three seconds, Arthur got a very good look at Nicholas and his guest. They were sharing the couch, some papers and a couple of notebooks lay forgotten on the table, instead they were clinging to glasses with questionable contents and talking so intimately that it turned his stomach. Nick laughed behind his hand, shaking his head a little and Warren touched his arm in a strangely familiar way. Then Nick's head snapped around and he picked up his phone, suddenly serious - his alarm system.   
He looked up, right at him, and there was nothing Arthur could do but stand there, transfixed in place, a bug pinned to a board, a deer in the headlights, a puzzle piece clicked into place. The feeling was so familiar that it strangled him with emotions, he never wanted to be anywhere else than trapped in Nick's eyes.  
Nick got up and walked over without looking away for as much as a second. He opened the window and leaned out casually. “Hello, Arthur.”  
“Ha… Howdy.” What.   
“Did you… mean to come in?”  
“Yes. Yes, that would be… I was just…”  
“Checking for intruders.”  
“That. Exactly.”  
“Mmh… How about I let you in.”  
“Sounds good. Great.”  
“Lovely. Meet you at the door.”  
And with that he closed the window and turned to go. Arthur stayed there for another moment, inhaling the scent of herbs and burnt wood and dollar store soap that had wafted out into the cool night that he suddenly didn’t feel anymore at all.

The door was opened for him by Warren. Nicholas stood a stretch back, looking as abuzz as Arthur had ever seen him. His eyes were very bright in the gloom of the house and his voice was full of… something, when all he said was his name. “Arthur…” It sounded like he was ready to say it a hundred times more. “... What are you doing here?”  
“I didn’t know you had a… guest.”  
“I was invited. What about you?” The confrontational tone made Arthur blink and look at Warren for the first time, really. There was a hardness in his jaw that hadn’t been there before. He clearly wasn’t delighted to see him, but that feeling went both ways.  
“We just don't usually get a lot of visitors… that's all.” Being civil was probably reasonable, even though he was boiling on the inside. This was bullshit! He was here to check on Nick, Nick who was right there! He didn’t want to make small talk with Captain America. God, that guy was huge.  
“We?”  
Alright, he was already done with civil.   
But before he could even say anything, Nicholas already cut him off.  
“We”, he said curtly. “Don’t talk to him in that tone, Warren, it’s his house. He has every right to be here.”  
Although he clearly didn't enjoy the stern talking to, Warren just made a vague gesture and let it go. He looked at him with more disdain than seemed appropriate, and Nicholas must have noticed, because he tried to move past it. “So, Arthur. Was there something you wanted?”  
“I just wanted to check on you. Because of the… thing. That we talked about. So- why is he here? Are there any new leads? Because you know-”  
“No, no. Nothing like that. We have been.. swapping war stories.”  
Whatever that meant, Warren seemed to understand, because he huffed a little laugh. Oh, what the hell. They had insider jokes now? He had been gone two weeks! This was just like coming back from limbo to realise the world had moved on without him, except somehow it was worse. Nicholas seemed to read on his face that something was not quite right. “We should talk about this in private. Warren?”  
“Yeah… sure. I don’t mind.”  
But he DID mind, and Arthur felt surprising glee at that thought. It turned into mild panic when they entered the study and the doors closed behind him.   
“So…” he said, not entirely sure where he had intended to go from here. His head was suddenly very empty. Nicholas was so obviously nervous as well, that it almost made him seem like a different person, he was shifting around and his hands were clasped together tightly. “It’s good to see you”, he finally said in a thin, brittle voice that burnt through Arthurs chest like acid.  
“It is. It’s… did you do it? Did you send the… thing?”  
“The ritual? Yes. It’s quite gruesome.”  
“How gruesome? Like, I know you can’t tell me specifics because of the deal, but-”  
“Very. But Annabelle has… personal reasons for attempting this and that made me concerned.”  
“Why? I mean… there’s limits to everything.”  
“Because I realised that I would do it… if you were on the line. I wouldn’t even hesitate.”  
Arthur just stared at him. So apparently they weren’t even trying to hide this anymore? When had they made that decision? But in Nicholas’ face it was obvious that they had both gone through the same thing when they were apart, they were both at their limit.   
“I can’t do this, Nick. I can’t have us two feet apart at all times. I don’t want to be a guest in your life, in the best scenario. I can’t undo what happened, but I want to prove to you that.. that I was confused. And that you can trust me. I’m willing to put the work in, and… if you have to keep me at arm’s length for now, I understand. … But this can’t be my life. I’m not interested in any kind of future that doesn’t involve you.”  
Nick lowered his chin almost to his chest, but he was criminally tall and Arthur still saw him chewing his lips in thought. That was a new tick. Finally, Nick came closer and reached for his hand, his touch was infinitely tender. “I don’t want to keep you at arm’s length. And… I found you a therapist.”  
“A what, huh?” Arthur blinked at him. That was not where he had expected this to go.   
“A therapist! Some, uh… acquaintance or other of Morgans. She doesn’t technically take any new patients but as it happens she had a great disdain for my father back in the day and that got me some brownie points. She would be willing to see you.”  
“I didn’t ask for a…”  
“I know, Arthur. And I didn’t push, because how would you explain what happened to you, without ending up in an insane asylum. But she knows. At least she knows… some things. You have experienced something that no one should ever have to go through, and you need to talk about it. To someone who isn’t as… invested as I am. You said… You said you feel like you can’t live up to my expectations. Well… neither can I. I can’t be everything you want me to be to you, especially because you don’t even know what that is. I tried and you hit me in the face.”  
“I told you, I-”  
“I know. I get it. And I know that I can be… I know what I can be like sometimes. I’m sure it was hard, feeling that kind of pressure. But as much as I want to, I can’t help you with this, because I’m not your therapist. And I’m not your father or your guardian or your… your boss. I don’t want to be. I will always look after you, Arthur, there’s nothing you can do to change that, but you have to let me do it as your friend.”  
Arthur suddenly noticed how close they were, Nick's breath was on his face, their bodies were almost touching and his eyes… his eyes were so intensely on him that they seemed to burn holes through any sharade he might try to put up.  
“Fine. Makes sense”, he said quietly and stared at their crossed fingers, how preciously Nick had cupped his hand… Then he looked up.

Nick was close enough to see individual lashes, and god… those lashes, but then he turned his head, and his lips brushed Arthurs cheek and it was over. His whole body reacted to that passing touch, he felt the tickle of that damn mustache and suddenly he was so awake. When he turned to meet his lips, Nick had already awkwardly pulled away, they stared at each other for a second, reading every thought on their faces, Arthur moved closer so suddenly that Nicholas flinched , startled, and then it didn’t matter, because they were kissing. Nick's mouth was on his they had both been so, so hungry for this touch. They broke apart just as suddenly, swaying softly, giggling breathlessly and looking for secure footing. Only there was none, because they were the ones that were off balance. Arthurs entire body was aflutter, and then their eyes met and their lips met and the entire situation just disappeared.   
Nick found naked skin under Arthurs shirt and ran his fingers over his back like he was some sort of prized artifact that needed to be handled with tenderness, but he was too careful with him, Arthur pulled his clothes and his hair, anything to bring him closer, because he was so, so starved. He needed Nick to grab him and never let him go, he needed to be held, and to be told that it would always be like this, until he believed it. And god… he needed to feel more of this. He dug his fingers into Nick's shirt and was shoved against the desk. Finally, this new assertiveness drew a moan from him and he couldn't help but reach- there was a knock at the door. He pulled away quickly and almost doubled over because Nicholas leaned against him, trying to kiss him again. At least Warren's voice seemed to register, albeit barely.  
“Nicholas?”  
“Just a second.”  
His voice was surprisingly steady, but he didn’t look that way at all. He was still staring at Arthur, completely enchanted. For Arthur, the knot in his stomach had returned. “You should… probably talk to your date.”  
“It wasn’t a date.” Nick touched his chest and his arms and Arthur let him, because there was nothing more reassuring. “That was definitely a date, my man.”  
They were still close, but Nick's face grew more distant now. Maybe that was for the best. “And if it was…?” He tried to meet Arthur's eyes, but he could barely bring himself to. Nicholas was right, of course.This was not the kind of relationship they had. He couldn’t start acting like it was any of his business now. “Good… for you.”  
And just like that it was over. Nicholas nodded his head, slowly, his eyes trailing off and then walked over to the door, trying his best to fix his hair.  
“Stay”, he said quietly, just before he left. “At least for tonight. Stay.”


	15. Chapter 15

When Arthur got up the next morning, the house was suspiciously still. He reveled in it. The moment he entered the kitchen, he stopped dead in his tracks. The coffee machine. He touched it cautiously and pulled a face. "You're new. Has he replaced me already?" He made a cup of tea - why had he never thought to do that at his parents’ place? - and just walked through the rooms, feeling like he had just returned from a long vacation, not a two-week exile. Everything felt homely and comfortable, the plants were freshly watered, but the furniture needed to be dusted. A bunch of books were on the table in the study. Recreational, not research. Nick didn’t have a lot of those and he usually kept them in his bedroom. Made him wonder what that was about.  
The living room…  
The living room wasn’t empty. Nicholas looked up at him, much more tired than startled. He was wrapped in a blanket and flipping through a notebook. He was never up at this time, but Arthur didn’t think that was what was going on anyways.   
“Hey, man. … Did you sleep at all?”  
Nick lowered his notebook with a cautious glance. He was tense, but when Arthur came closer he made some room on the couch. “Not yet. Wait, what time is it?”  
“Seven… in the morning.”  
With a little groan, Nick dropped his notebook on the table. “Ah. That explains some things.”  
Arthur sat down by his feet and couldn’t hold in a little chuckle. “Like why you’re sleepy?”  
“And why my spine feels like it is crumbling, yes.”  
They both smiled awkwardly at that, then Arthur offered him his cup of tea. Nick looked unsure. "Is that… really for me?"  
"You need it more than I do."  
After a moment, Nick took it. Their fingers touched and he stirred a little without managing eye contact.   
"So… yesterday. That was-"   
“Dumb. I agree.”  
“I was going to say ‘nice’.”  
Nicholas raised timid eyes at him. “Arthur…”  
“I’m not going to apologize.”  
“And you shouldn’t. It was nice. But it might have been.. rash. On my part.”  
Arthur huffed. “What does that even mean? It’s not like… anything happened.”  
This time the pause stretched for a long time, and Nicholas frowned at him. “Arthur, do you know how you make me feel?”  
Oh. So he had been right the night before. They were doing this. They were done pretending nothing was happening. “I think I may have an idea. And I’m sorry. For what I said before… before you were shot. I said-”  
“I know what you said.” Nicholas didn’t sound angry, but there was a sharpness to his voice that made it clear he didn’t want to dive into it.  
“Well… I shouldn’t have, dude and that’s not how I think about you, either. You never asked me for anything. I was just scared and… it was a shitty thing to say.“  
Nicholas was quiet for a moment and then he nodded, curtly. “Yes, it was”, he said, but his hand was on Arthurs now, and after a moment their fingers locked cautiously. “You’re just so angry at me and I don’t know what to do with that. I just pretend to know all the answers, the truth is, I am not very good at any of this.”  
“Really? You could have fooled me.”  
For a moment there was only a long, disapproving look, then Arthur could positively see Nicholas break down and surrender a weak little laugh. “Fine, yes. I get it.”  
Arthur felt like a tension had left him that he didn’t realise was there. He had avoided thinking about that fight too much all this time, but it had constantly been eating away at some part of his mind. But this was good. Nick was clearly hurt, but it had been acknowledged now, and maybe he could start making it better. He cupped Nicholas' hand in his and tried to catch his eyes. “So… now that that’s off the table. What about your boy toy?”  
The fact that Nicholas looked at him in genuine puzzlement only made the whole thing funnier. How was this man even real.   
“Are you talking about Warren? … Like I said. It’s nothing like that.”  
“Then what is it like?”  
“Arthur, are you jealous?”  
“Are you avoiding my question?”  
Nick huffed, shook his head and then finally made eye contact again. Somehow Arthur felt it in his stomach. “No. It’s just… There is someone out there who is trying to shoot me, someone who knows where I live. So now and then it was nice to have someone here.”  
The nausea that he’d had this whole time whenever he imagined Nick sitting home alone came back so strongly that it was all but paralysing. “I guess that makes sense. Why didn’t you just say that?”  
“Because I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t take care of myself. I’m not some damsel in distress, Arthur, I don’t need you here. But I… I really want you around. More than anything.”  
And that was it. After all that mess, he didn’t need to hear anything else. He wanted to say something profound. Instead he just sighed and pulled Nicholas into a hug that was probably uncomfortably tight, but Nick just did his best to save the tea and then buried his face against Arthurs shoulder. It was still astonishing how smoothly he managed to fit into his arms, when he seemed to be only gangly limbs and awkward angles.  
“I… think I need to be with you”, he finally said very quietly and leaned his cheek against the top of Nick's head. “There really isn’t anywhere else in the world for me, my dude.”


End file.
